* 


WELL  BEGUN  IS  HALF  DONE, 

OR 

THE  YOIJNG  PAINTER; 

AND 

FIDDLEHANNS. 

TALES  TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF 
EICHARD  BARON  AND  DR.  C.  DEUTSCH. 

BY 


QLxancxmantci. 


NEW  YORK: 
P.  O'SIIEA,  PUBLISnER, 
57  BARCLAY  STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congreas,  in  tAejear  IMT, 
Bt  p.  O'Shsa. 

til*  Ulerk's  Office  cf  the  District  Court  of  the  Uiiited  Atateit  V  CbC 
fioathern  District  <A  X«w  Totk. 


DEDICATION. 


Dear  Agxes  :  — 
I  scarcely  venture,  with  your  maturing 
years  and  already  ripened  intellect,  to  dedi- 
cate to  you  a  book  for  children.  And  yet  I 
feel  quite  sure  you  will  find  pleasure  in  the 
simple  but  lofty  lessons  taught  in  the  accom- 
panying beautiful  talcs,  as  well  as  appreciate 
the  affection  which  leads  me  to  wish  to  see 
your  name  at  their  head. 

Sincerely  yours, 

THE  TRANSLATOR. 


CONTENTS. 


PA  as 

WELL  BEGUN  IS  HALF  DONE,  OR  THE  YOUNG 

PAINTER,  BY  EICIIARD  BARON  1 

FIDDLEHANNS,  BY  DR.  C.  DEUTSCH    ....  203 


WELL  BEGUN  IS  HALF  DONE, 

OR 

THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


CnAPTER  I. 


THE  LITTLE  PAINTER's  JOYS  AND  SORROWS. 

The  villaf^o  school  of  Rciclicntlial  was  not  a 
"wliit  loss  bustling  and  noisy  than  most  country 
Ecliools  of  its  class,  and  at  the  particular  time 
of  the  commencement  of  our  story  the  humhlo 
Avails  re-echoed  with  the  usual  din  ;  the  hum- 
ming of  many  youthful  voices,  studying,  recit- 
ing, or  indulging  in  the  delights  of  a  stolen 
and  whispered  interchange  of  views  and  opin- 
ions. 

The  master  was  walking  up  and  down  be- 
fore his  scholars,  and  eloquently  expounding 
the  mysteries  of  the  noble  art  of  calculation. 
His  discourse  was  frequently  interrupted  by 
questions,  which  were  sometimes  addressed  to 
single  individuals,  and  sometimes  were  ex- 
pected to  be  answered  by  a  band  of  united 


4. 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTER. 


voices,  all  tlio  boys  and  girls  joining  in  full 
chorus. 

Suddenly,  the  zealous  master  arrested  his 
course,  and  fastened  a  sharp  glance  upon  one 
of  the  boys  in  the  front  row.  The  child  hastily 
strove  to  conceal  a  paper  beneath  the  table. 

^'  What  can  that  troublesome  boy  have  been 
scribbling  at  again?''  cried  the  master.  "Out 
with  it !  " 

The  boy  blushed  deeply,  cast  an  imploring 
glance  upon  the  master's  face,  and  stammered 
a  few  unintelligible  words,  while  his  neighbors 
on  either  hand  secretly  tittered  among  them- 
selves. 

"  Out  with  it,  I  tell  you !  Some  stupid  thing, 
I  '11  warrant.    Come,  make  haste  !  " 

The  little  culprit  trembled  as  he  slowly  drew 
forth  a  sheet  of  paper  from  beneath  the  table. 
The  master  seized  it,  placed  his  spectacles  upon 
his  great  nose,  and  with  an  ominous  shake  of 
the  head  regarded  the  image  which  met  his 
view. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  he  finally  cried.  "  I  act- 
ually believe  the  boy  has  been  intending  to 
caricature  me  !    As  true  as  I  live !    And  what 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


5 


a  nose  lie  has  given  me.  Ah  !  you  little  rascal, 
is  this  tlie  way  you  make  fun  of  your  master  ? " 

^'Pardon!  pardon!  "  begged  the  boy,  implor- 
ingly lifting  his  beautiful  eyes,  now  £:urrutcd 
with  tears. 

"  Yes,  pardon  !  That  is  what  you  always 
say.  How  many  thousand  times  have  I  told 
you  to  quit  this  eternal  sketching  and  caricatur- 
ing !  But  every  scrap  of  paper  that  falls  into 
the  boy's  clutches  is  covered  in  a  trice  with 
dogs,  horses,  houses,  even  men's  heads,  —  and 
I  must  confess  they  look  so  natural  that  one 
might  almost  fancy  them  real !  " 

Ah  !  dear  master,"  cried  the  boy,  "  indeed 
I  cannot  help  it." 

Cannot  help  it !  Come  here,  and  I  will 
show  you  that  you  both  can  and  must  help  it ! 
Look  !  — you  have  drawn  me  with  a  fme  rod 
in  my  hand  !  You  shall  find  that  I  do  not 
carry  it  for  nothing.    Come  here,  sir!  " 

Then  followed  a  short  castigation,  to  which 
the  little  sketcher  patiently  and  humbly  sub- 
mitted. He  then  returned  to  his  place,  and 
when  the  interrupted  lesson  was  again  resumed, 
his  attention  and  the  correctness  of  his  answers 


THE   YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


showed  that  lie  could  not  only  make  pictures, 
but  that  ho  was  also  well  advanced  in  the  more 
practical  branches  of  education. 

The  bell  finally  rang,  and  school  was  out. 
The  children  rushed  joyously  into  the  open 
play-ground.  Gustaviis,  —  for  such  Avas  the 
boy's  name,  —  in  obedience  to  the  master's 
command,  remained  behind. 

"  Gustavus,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  punished 
you  to-day  because  you  chose  me,  your  master, 
as  a  subject  for  ridicule.  In  the  Word  of  God 
stands  the  law  :  '  Thou  shalt  honor  thy  father 
and  thy  mother,'  and'  this  law  includes  thy 
superiors  !    Do  you  comprehend  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  understand  it,  and  I  beseech  you  to 
forgive  me  !  "  said  the  boy,  with  unaffected  con- 
trition. 

"  Well  then,  —  you  are  forgiven.  But,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  tell  me  Avhat  all  this  everlasting 
drawing  and  painting  means  ?  In  other  re- 
spects you  are  a  very  sensible  boy.  You  read 
like  a  mill-clapper,  you  reckon  like  a  clerk, 
you  learn  your  hymns  and  verses  better  than 
any  of  the  others,  and  you  write  almost  as  well 
as  your  master.    And  yet  you  will  not  quit 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


7 


coTcriiig  your  books  and  every  wall  and  barn 
door  with  your  cndloes  scribbling.  Iley,  now  ! 
Uow  is  all  this  to  end  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  ropliod  Gustaviis.  But 
you  see,  djar  mastor,  my  head  is  always  filled 
with  £0  many  strange  pictures.  Day  and  night, 
Avaking  and  sleeping,  tlicy  dance  before  my 
eyes,  and  give  me  no  rest.  Then  something 
forces  me  to  seize  on  the  first  pen  or  pencil,  bit 
of  chalk  or  charcoal,  I  can  find,  and  note  down 
with  my  fingers  all  that  is  passing  through  my 
brain.  And  then  I  feel  so  happy  !  Oh  !  so 
happy  !  " 

The  master  shook  his  head. 

"  This  is  a  wonderful  gift  of  God,  which  may 
readily  become  very  dangerous  to  you.  Your 
mother  tells  me  that  you  are  very  idle  at  home, 
and  that  you  give  her  a  great  deal  of  trouble." 

TJie  boy's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Ah  !  " 
cried  he,  "  tliat  is  very  true  ;  both  fatlicr  and 
mother  are  often  dissatisfied  with  me.  I  liate 
chopping  and  digging,  spinning  and  looking 
after  the  cows.  I  want  to  go  out  into  the  wide, 
wida  world.  I  want  —  I  know  not  exactly 
what !  " 


8 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTEIi. 


"  Come,  come,"  caicl  tho  master,  kindlj, 
"  composo  yourself!  The  world  is  indeed 
very  wide,  and  you  are  still  a  very  young  and 
a  totally  inexperienced  lad.  The  world  is  like 
a  great  shark  with  a  monstrous  pair  of  jaws,  — 
it  might  easily  swallow  you  down,  skin  and 
hair  and  all !  Tlie  best  thing  for  you  will  be 
to  stay  at  home  and  perform  all  your  duties. 
And  now  go,  and  remember  this  command- 
ment :  '  Children,  obey  your  parents  for  tho 
sake  of  the  Lord  ! '  " 

Gustavus  went,  and  with  the  usual  elasticity 
of  youth,  soon  recovered  from  tlic  painful  im- 
pressions produced  by  the  conversation  held 
with  his  master.  He  rapidly  hastened  toward 
his  father's  cottage,  which,  surrounded  by  its 
pretty  garden,  lay  on  tlie  outskirts  of  the  vil- 
lage. Behind  it  rose  a  lofty  eminence,  and  tlie 
little  side  windows  looked  out  upon  a  noble 
forest  of  oaks  and  beeches. 

"  Mother  !  "  cried  the  boy  to  a  woman  clad 
in  the  ordinary  dress  of  the  peasants  in  that 
part  of  the  country,  —  "  mother,  I  will  dig  and 
delve  to-day  with  all  my  might ;  only  let  me 
have  the  spade  and  tho  rake  that  I  may  finish 
something  worth  speaking  of  before  noon." 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


0 


Ere  tho  mother,  according  to  her  usual  cus- 
tom, had  time  to  warn  him  against  idleness  and 
day-dreaming,  he  was  already  in  the  garden, 
and  the  dexterity  with  which  he  handled  the 
implements  proved  that  he  not  only  possessed 
a  nobly  gifted  intellect,  but  that  God  had  also 
endowed  him  with  a  strong  and  healthy  body. 

We  will  leave  him  at  his  work,  and  inquire 
a  little  more  closely  into  his  actual  condition 
and  circumstances ;  for  our  young  readers  will 
already  have  divined  that  he  is  to  be  the  hero 
of  our  tale. 

Braun,  Giistavus's  fostor-fathcr,  —  for  such 
was  tho  real  connection  between  the  boy  and 
tho  peasant,  —  was  an  under  forester  in  tho 
royal  service.  This  post  had  been  conferred 
upon  him  as  a  reward  for  his  good  conduct 
during  the  recent  war.  The  salary,  however, 
was  very  small,  and  barely  sufficed  to  keep  his 
family  above  the  pressure  of  actual  want.  In 
addition  to  Gustavus,  he  had  five  children  of 
liis  own,  and  the  little  household  could  scarcely 
have  continued  to  exist,  had  not  Braun 's  exer- 
tions been  aided  by  tho  industry  and  careful 
management  of  his  wife. 


10 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


Oustavus  vras  the  father's  darling,  —  but  by 
no  in3a:is  tlic  mother's.  An  impenetrable  mjs- 
i2:'y  diroudod  liis  origin.  All  that  was  known 
was,  that  Wiien  Braun  had  returned  from  the 
vrars,  he  had  brought  the  child  with  him.  But 
Vv'hero  or  how  he  had  come  into  his  possession 
had  either  never  been  related,  or  had  been  for- 
gotten. In  sliort,  Gustavus  was  regarded  as 
Braun' s  adopted  son,  and  no  further  considera- 
tion was  bestowed  upon  the  subject  Braun 
had  not  married  until  after  his  return,  and  the 
boy  had  failed  in  winning  his  adopted  mother's 
love.  The  peasant  woman  was  by  no  means 
ill  disposed,  but  the  alTcction  she  bore  her  own 
offspring  ro  entirely  filled  her  heart,  that  she 
had  none  to  spare  for  t!ie  little  stranger. 

Yv'hen  bhc  found  her  family  increasing  very 
rapidly,  and  began  to  fear  lest  there  should  be 
come  difficulty  in  providing  for  them  all,  Gus- 
tavus only  appeared  to  her  in  the  light  of  an 
unwelcome  intruder  who  liad  no  claim  upon 
licr  care  or  attention.  In  addition  to  this,  the 
ch.ild's  peculiarities  of  mind  and  temperament, 
as  tlicy  had  early  developed  themselves,  wcro 
i:)  dii-ect  opposition  to  all  t!io  ideas,  and  Gvcii 


THE  YOrXG  rAIXTEE. 


11 


Vaz  very  nature,  of  tlio  activo  and  industrious 
•woman.  When  littlo  inoro  than  an  infant, 
Gustavus  had  displayed  traits  cf  character  u:i- 
nsual  in  a  peasant  boy  ;  ho  preferred  to  wander 
alone  throu<»-li  the  neighboring  wood,  and  for 
liours  tvOgether  would  watcli  tlie  gay  rports  cf 
tlie  birds,  the  equirrels,  the  deer,  or  other  liv- 
ing creatures  abounding  in  the  forest,  or,  lying 
at  the  foot  of  some  tall  tree,  ho  would  seem 
never  to  weary  of  gazing  upon  the  danchig 
leaves,  the  blue  ^:ky,  or  the  floating  clouds. 

Wlien  he  grew  older,  lie  was  seized  with  an 
unconquerable  desire  of  imitating  wit!i  his 
pencil  everything  he  saw ;  and,  rough  as  the 
sketches  vrerc,  they  excited  universal  astonish- 
ment from  their  spirit  and  exactitude.  The 
cottage  and  outbuildings  bore  numberless 
traces  of  the  boy's  peculiar  mania.  On  tlio 
barn  door,  a  lusty  cavalier  was  seen  gallopijig 
away  on  a  spirited  steed,  a  troop  of  cavalry 
Wiiich  liad  shortly  before  passed  tlirough  t!io 
village  liaving  afforded  the  model.  As  a  com- 
panion to  this,  was  a  sketch  of  a  traveller 
mounted  on  an  ass,  wiiose  picturesque  appear- 
■auGq  and  appoiiitmoi^ts  fur  OiiDun tain  .travel 


12 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTER. 


liad  attracted  the  boy's  fancy.  The  white- 
Avaslicd  cottage  walls  were  covered  witli  scenes 
from  the  Old  Testament,  evidently  copied  from 
tlio  pictures  in  the  village  church.  The  peak 
of  the  roof  was  adorned  with  a  variety  of  comi- 
cal figures,  modelled  in  clay,  and  representing* 
men  or  animals.  Neither  tlie  stranger  nor  the 
villager  could  pass  by  the  little  dwelling  with- 
out glancing  upward,  and  bestowing  a  smile  or 
a  look  of  wonder  upon  this  singular  assemblage 
of  images ;  and  endless  were  the  questions 
asked  concerning  the  artist  who  had  conceived 
and  executed  so  many  curious  and  beautiful 
designs. 

We  may  readily  imagine  that  these  favorite 
pursuits  cost  Gustavus  many  precious  hours, 
and  also  that  they  were  a  source  of  unceasing 
contention  with  his  foster-motlier,  Avho  would 
have  much  preferred  seeing  him,  in  winter,  at 
the  spinning-wheel ;  and  in  summer,  caring  for 
the  cows  and  goats,  or  laboring  in  the  garden. 
She  thouglit  the  little  stranger  in  duty  bound  to 
earn  the  bread  which  lie  consumed,  and  when- 
ever Gustavus  stole  away  from  his  work  to  liis 
beloved  pictiu'cs,  the  trausgrcsfdon  ^vas  speed- 


TH'C  YOUNG  PAINTEn. 


13 


ily  followed  by  many  and  loud  roproaclicf:, 
not  infrequently  accoinpanicd  by  corporal  pu:> 
iduuont.  Tho  fat-ior,  too,  when  in  tijo  cvoning 
li3  returned  from  the  forest,  was  often  assailed 
witli  a  volley  of  complaints,  and  much  domchtic 
eloquence  was  he  forced  to  expend  in  pacifying 
t:ie  good  dame,  and  in  moderating  her  indig- 
nation at  "  that  idle,  good-for-notliing,  scrib- 
bling lad,"  as  she  called  Gustavus,  whoso 
designs  were  in  her  eyes  nothing  more  than 
the  marring  of  unsullied  walls,  a:id  the  soiling 
of  clean  places  with  useless  dirt. 

Thus,  among  many  joys  and  many  sorrows, 
had  Gustavus  grown  into  an  active,  spirited, 
and  healthy  boy.  It  was  a  real  pleasure  to 
look  upon  liis  fmc,  open  countenance,  from 
which  shone  two  clear,  dark  eyes,  and  round 
Avhicli  waved  a  profusion  of  graceful  brown 
curls.  All  his  motions,  his  walk,  and  liis  Lm- 
guage,  were  marked  by  a  certain  grace  and 
elegance  which  advantageously  distinguished 
him  from  the  other  village  boys  of  his  own  age. 
And  if  drawing  and  painting  were  his  favorite 
occupations,  yet,  aided  by  his  excellent  memory 
and  quick  understanding,  ho  had  readily  ac 

2 


14 


THE  YOUNG  PAINT EP., 


quired  all  tliat  was  to  bo  banied  i:i  Va2  vlilag? 
Lcliool. 

JIo  had  also  eagerly  devoured  revoral  works 
o:i  liistory  owned  by  his  father,  and  cuudry 
treatises  on  natural  history  lent  him  by  the 
village  pastor,  witli  whom  he  was  a  great 
favorite.  He  was  thus  well  advanced  for  his 
years  and  circumstanc3s,  and  t!ie  travellers 
wliom  lie  sometimes  guided  over  the  neighbor- 
ing mountain  were  always  surprised  at  the 
quickness  of  his  perceptions,  tlie  -soundness  of 
his  judgment,  and  liis  tasteful  and  accurate  use 
of  language. 

lie  also  possessed  a  good  heart  and  a  kind 
and  loving  disposition.  Even  liis  foster-motli- 
cr's  want  of  affection,  and  rough  treatment, 
had  failed  in  exciting  tlie  faintest  emotion  of 
bitterness  in  his  soul ;  indeed,  his  gentleness 
and  submission  not  infrequently  disarmed  t'.ie 
good  dame's  anger,  when  she  fancied  herself 
especially  aggrieved  through  his  love  of  reve- 
ri:;,  or  tlie  ill-timed  pursuit  of  his  favorite  art. 

Il3  trer.ted  his  little  brothers  and  sisters 
jnost  affectionately  ;  he  protected  tliem,  played 
Avitli  them,  and  rejoiced  tlicir  innocent  hearta 


Tin:  Youxo  PAiNTrn. 


15 


with  Jill  manner  of  I'tlb  figures  (.laiiilily  fi^si" 
ijiied  from  wooJ  or  bark.  lJ:s  deepest  f.'jl- 
ings,  liowevcr,  were  all  tbvotad  to  liis  fo^  tor- 
father,  who,  although  a  plain  and  unlearned 
man,  had  heart  and  mind  cnougli  to  recognize 
t!ie  boy's  superior  gifts,  and  to  love  him  as  if 
he  had  been  his  own  ^:on. 

We  Avill  now  return  to  our  hero,  in  whore 
behalf  wo  hope  this  short  account  will  have 
excited  the  sympathy  of  our  readers.  The  sun 
shone  down  bright  and  Avarm  from  the  heavens 
as  t!ie  boy  pursu3d  his  laborious  task  of  digging 
trenches,  which  he  then  carefully  filled  witli 
tender  young  ])lants.  But  his  heart  was  not 
in  his  work.  His  imagination  was  revelling  in 
some  far  distant  scenes,  and  Avas  filled  with  an 
endless  succession  of  lovely  i)ictures. 

Gustavus  had  a  few  days  before  guided  sev- 
eral travellers  across  the  mountain,  and  the 
loveliness  of  the  scenery  through  whicli  he  had 
passed  was  ever  before  him.  Also,  the  travel- 
lers liad  been  so  lively,  and  had  treated  tlie 
bright,  intelligent  boy  so  kindly,  that  Avherevcr 
he  turned  he  saw  their  benevolent  faces  Avitli 
his  inward  eye.     "  0,  if  I  could  only  paint 


IG  THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 

you  now,  you  doar,  good  people  !  "  thought 
Gustavus.  "  Well,  so  I  could,  for  you  Ltaiid 
before  me  as  if  you  Avcre  actually  about  to 
speak.  But  I  cannot  satisfy  myself  with  chalk 
and  coal !  Ah  !  if  I  only  had  a  piece  of  clean 
"white  paper,  with  a  pencil,  a  brush,  and  some 
colors  !  —  Well,  I  Avill  try  just  once  !  But 
no,"  continued  he,  again  seizing  upon  the 
spade  which  he  had  left  standing  in  the  trench ; 
"  no,  I  promised  my  mother  to  work  steadily 
on  until  noon.  She  shall  not  always  be  forced 
to  scold  me  as  an  idle,  lazy  boy !  " 

He  continued  to  dig,  but  the  thought  of 
drawing  his  d^ar  travelling  companions  was  too 
enticing,  —  tlie  temptation  proved  too  strong. 

"  I  can  easily  spare  a  couple  of  minutes,  I 
can  then  work  twice  as  fast,"  thought  he,  as  ho 
slipped  away  towards  the  door  of  an  enclosure 
which  still  oiTered  him  a  smooth,  unsullied  sur- 
face. He  found  a  piece  of  charcoal  in  his 
pocket,  and  hastily  began  liis  work.  He  had 
already  sketched  a  huge  rock,  at  whose  foot 
the  company  were  to  be  placed;  the  beautiful 
lady  and  the  venerable  old  man  with  the  long 
beard  were  already  drawn  


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


17 


Wlien  suddenly  tlic  shrill  voice  of  his  foster- 
mother  fjU  upon  his  ear,  ccolding  in  no  gentb 
tones.  "Just  look  !"  she  cried,  just  look  at 
that  good-for-nothing  boy.  I  fancy  him  work- 
ing in  the  garden  like  a  reasonable  Christian, 
and  there  he  is  lounging  at  the  barn  doors,  and 
scratching  them  all  over  with  his  frightful 
puppets  ! 

We  will  spare  our  young  readers  the  flood 
of  reproaches  which  overwhelmed  the  poor  lad. 
Gustavus  slipped  quietly  away,  really  ashamed 
at  his  own  forgetfulness,  and  ready  to  do  any- 
thing to  show  his  sorrow  and  avert  the  storm. 

During  the  remainder  of  this  day,  and  the 
next  following,  no  more  industrious,  willing, 
and  obliging  boy  than  Gustavus  showed  himself 
to  be  could  be  found  iu  any  houschoM  or  m 
any  school-room. 


2# 


CHAPTER  II. 


GUSTAVU3  DETERMINES  TO  BE  A  TAIXTER,  AXD 
LEARNS  now  FATHER  ERAUN  CAME  TO  ADOPT 
IHM. 

Time  passed,  and  Gustavus  was  now  about 
fourteen  years  old,  circumstances  rendering  it 
impossible  to  determine  exactly  the  date  of  bis 
birth.  On  the  morning  of  that  joyful  day 
"which  wc  commemorate  in  honor  of  our  Lord'a 
ascension,  the  boy  had  received  the  Sacrament 
of  confirmation. 

During  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  the 
fj-tber  tlu'ow  bis  gun  over  bis  shoulder,  calbd 
tlie  boy,  and  bade  him  accompany  liim  to  tbo 
wood,  as  be  bad  mucli  to  say  to  him.  They 
went,  and  were  soon  walking  together  beneath 
tlie  spreading  branches  of  the  lofty  birches, 
oaks,  and  beeches,  which,  although  devoid  of 


TIIK   YOLXG  PAINTEll, 


IQ 


foliage,  yet  by  the  swelling  cf  their  buds 
already  announced  the  joyful  approach  of 
spring.  Above  them  was  the  clear  blue 
heaven,  whence  shone  the  sun  so  bright  and 
warm  that  all  nature  seemed  to  feel  the  call  to 
a  renewal  of  life  and  activity  ;  the  first  spring 
birds  twittered,  the  numerous  tribes  cf  insects 
and  harmless  reptiles  began  to  creep  cut  cf 
tlieir  secret  recesses,  and  the  carlieit  flovrcrs 
peeped  up  with  their  tender,  bright  little  eyes 
through  the  dry  moss  and  dead  leaves.  It  was 
one  of  those  lovely  days  Avhen  the  power  cf 
God  seems  to  breathe  anevr  athwart  creation, 
endowing  all  his  works  witli  new  beauty  and 
vigor.  At  such  times,  too,  the  hearts  cf  men 
are  filled  witli  strange  divinings,  and  lifted  far 
above  the  sordid  cares  of  earth  on  the  wings  cf 
blissful  emotion. 

They  finally  came  to  a  small  clcarir.g  on  t!ie 
summit  of  a  hill,  whence  their  eyes  could 
wander  over  t!ie  wide-spread  forest  lying  at 
llieir  feet,  with  its  singing  brooks,  lovely  val- 
leys, and  scattered  villages. 

Let  us  sit  here  !  "  said  the  father.  'T  is 
a  holy  day,  and  the  wild  creatures  of  the  wood 


20 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


dr.iU  also  rost ;  I  only  hope  tho  poachers  and 
vrood  thiovos  will  loavo  mo  a  littb  ropose.  I 
liavo  many  important  things  to  talk  to  thcc 
about,  Gustavus." 

Thoy  sat  down  Tipon  tho  trunk  of  a  fallen 
tr33.  GustaA'us  gazed  silently  and  expectantly 
into  his  father's  honest  face.  The  good  man 
b3gan  as  follows :  — "  This  has  been  a  happy  day 
f  jr  me.  My  heart  overflowed  with  joy  Avhcn  I 
caw  thee  stand  before  the  altar,  and  heard  thoe 
saw  thee  stand  before  the  altar,  and  there 
renew  thy  vow  to  remain  a  faithful  and  upright 
servant  of  thy  Saviour,  of  that  Holy  One  whom 
\73  men  are  all  bound  tlu'ough  life  and  deatli 
to  f.)llow.  All  my  hopes  v.nth  regard  to  thee 
have  been  fulfilled.  And  yet  my  heart  is  full 
of  anxiety  on  thy  account." 

On  my  account  ?  How,  father,  have  I 
given  thee  cause  for  sorrow  ? 

"  No,  thou  hast  given  me  no  cause  !  But  thy 
future  fate  occasions  me  much  anxiety.  Gus- 
tavus,  what  is  to  become  of  thee  ?  " 

Tlie  boy  made  no  reply  ;  his  head  sank,  and 
liis  eyes  were  thoughtfully  fixed  upon  tho 
ground. 

Thou  seest,  my  boy,  thy  life  henceforth 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER, 


21 


must  bo  very  different  from  wliat  it  has  liith- 
crto  l)eeii.  Thou  art  no  lo'ngcr  a  child.  Tliou 
hast  left  thy  school  days  behind  thee,  and  it 
Avill  not  bo  well  for  theo  longer  to  remain  be- 
neath my  roof." 

"  Thou  art  riglit,  father  !  "  cried  Gustavus. 

I  must  go  !  Ah  !  I  have  long  enough  been 
a  burden  to  you  all !  " 

"  Say  not  so  !  Thou  hast  never  been  a  bur- 
don  to  mo.  I  liavo  always  considered  thee  as 
a  gift  from  hoavon,  and  God  is  my  witness  tliat 
I  havo  never  for  one  singlo  moment  repented 
havhig  taken  theo  to  my  heart  when  I  boro 
llioo  in  my  arms  from  the  bloody  battle-field, 
and  most  probably,  by  so  dohig.  saved  thy 
life." 

^*  I  know  it !  I  know  it !  "  cried  Gustavus, 
with  groat  tears  standing  in  his  eyes.  "  Thou 
hast  always  been  my  kind  and  faithful  fatlier, 
and  I  thank  thee  for  all  —  all !  But  thou  art 
poor,  father  !  Thou  hast  more  than  enough 
to  do  to  provide  for  those  who  have  a  nearer 
claim  upon  theo  than  1.  I  then  can,  and  will, 
no  longer  bo  a  burden  to  thee." 

"  Speak  no  more  of  that.    As  long  as  I  havo 


22 


Tllli  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


a  morsel  of  bread,  Gustavus,  lliero  will  always 
be  a  bliaro  for  thee.  I3ut  we  iniist  view  tliis 
matter  from  a  different  point  of  viev/.  Thou 
must  liave  come  settled  occupation,  come  op- 
portunity for  advancement." 

'•And  what  doct  tliou  tliink  I  liad  better 
be  ?  "  asked  the  boy,  gazing  intently  upon  his 
father's  face. 

"  I  have  thouglit  much  upon  the  ruhject. 
Y/e  must  here  do,  uot  so  mucli  vrliat  we  vrouli 
desire,  as  wliat  vre  can  and  must.  I  IdWit. 
iiourislicd  t!ie  hope  that  v/e  vrould  one  day 
discover  tliy  parents.  At  first,  I  made  every 
possible  c.Tort  —  all  in  vain  —  and  then  I 
tlioiiglit  some  accident  might  perliaps  throve 
us  upon  their  traces.  I  now  see  that  such 
hopes  are  vain  and  idle.  I  believe  that  tlie 
rank  and  circumstances  amid  Vvdiich  thou  wert 
born  aro  no  longer  possibilities  for  thee  ;  tliou 
must  then  cheerfully  renounce  all  thought  of 
tliem,  and  take  life  as  God  lias  willed  it  for 
theo.  Th.ou  art  the  son  of  Braun,  the  poor 
forester  of  Reichenthal,  and,  as  tliy  father,  I 
can  only  say  to  thee,  thou  must  learn  a 
trad J  !  " 


THE  YOUNG  rAIXTER. 


23 


"  Loarii  a  trado  !  "  repeated  Giutaviis  iu  a 
low  tone,  at  tlie  camo  time  cniittii:g  a  deep 

I  fjared,  indeed,  that  my  proposition  would 
i:ot  pbaso  tliee.  Eiit  1  sec  no  other  path  open. 
Tliou  knowest  I  can  afibrd  thee  but  very  little 
acdstance.  Thou  must  open  a  Avay  for  thyself 
v/hich  will  one  day  lead  thee  to  an  independent 
hearthstone  of  thine  own.  Believe  me,  every 
trade  may  lead  to  a  gold  mine  !  Industry, 
skill,  and  uprig'htness  must  insure  success. 
Lut  perhaps  thou  thiidvest  tliyself  too  good  for 
a  trade  !  Such  an  idea  vrould  really  pain  me 
deeply. 

I  know  many  a  mechanic  Vvdio,  in  God's 
eyes,  is  v/ortli  much  more  than  many  an  idler 
clothed  in  silk,  and  taking  his  ease  in  a  gilded 
chariot.  The  main  point  is,  that  tliou  shculdit 
be  a  good,  honest,  and  religious  man.  I  think 
a  shooraakcr,  a  weaver,  or  a  carpenter  can 
servo  God,  enjoy  life,  and  benefit  his  fellovr- 
men  as  well  as  his  more  aspiring  brotlier  mor- 
tals.   Vf  hat  saycst  tliou  to  that  ?  " 

"  0,  thou  art  right,  quite  right !  Eut,  dear 
father,  do  not  tliiiik  mo  .dlly  cr  absurd. .  1  fear 


21 


t:i::  young  painter:. 


it  will  bo  impossibb  for  mo  ever  io  bccoino  a 
mocliaiiic." 

The  father  sadly  sliook  liis  lieacl.  I  feared 
tins,"  said  he,  as  if  speaking  to  liimsclf.  "The 
lad  has  a  proud  heart ;  he  must  have  been  born 
with  it.  1  may  perhaps  have  erred  in  ciilTering 
him  too  far  to  follow  the  bent  of  his  own  incli- 
nations. My  consideration  for  him  as  the  pos- 
sible offspring  of  noble  parents  is  now  bringing 
its  own  punishmc:it.  —  Well,  speak  then,  and 
tell  me  what  thy  plans  are,"  added  he,  after  a 
diort  pause. 

"  Thou  seest,  father,  if  one  desires  to  learn 
and  skilfully  practise  the  simplest  trade,  one 
must  possess  both  love  and  capacity  for  one's 
business :  I  feel  within  me  neither  inclination 
nor  capacity.  By  capacity  I  do  not  mean  the 
power  wliicli  lies  in  the  hands  or  tlie  feet :  cf 
tliat  I  possess  an  abundance  ;  but  I  now  speak 
of  that  inner  power  wliich  can  alone  guide  a 
man  in  t!ie  production  of  anything  worthy  or 
excellent.  I  sliould  most  certainly  be  the 
mobt  awkward,  useless,  and  unhappy  mechanic 
living." 

"  Gustavus!  GustavusI "  cried  Braun,  mouni- 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


25 


fully  sinking  liis  head.  "  Dost  tlioii  llicn  iiitciul 
to  do  nothing,  to  be  of  no  use  in  the  Avorld  ?  " 

"  0  no,  father  !  I  fool  Lomcthiiig  wltliin 
rno,  —  comcthing  I  can  neither  name  nor 
ccribo,  but  which  tolls  mo  that  my  lifo  will  i:ct 
liave  been  in  vain,  and  that  no  shame  Avill  ever 
tarnish  my  name.  It  drives  mo  out  into  llio 
"world.  I  must  go  hence.  0  surely,  I  wi'.l 
discover  and  win  all  that  noAV  renders  me  both 
happy  and  unhappy,  and  waking  cr  sleeping 
loaves  me  no  repose." 

But  unless  thou  intendest  to  bo  a  mere 
dreamer,  a  forlorn  wanderer  upon  the  face  of 
the  earth,  thou  must  determine  upon  somethir>g 
defmite." 

"  I  will  be  a  painter  !  " 

The  father  lifted  his  hands  in  amazement. 
"A  painter!"  cried  he,  —  "a  painter!  And 
this  is  my  reward  !  Have  I  not  always  re- 
joiced in  the  lad's  drawing  and  painting,  ar^d 
now  must  that  veiy  talent  bring  me  only  anxi- 
ety and  sorrow  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father,  I  will  be  a  painter  !  Do  not 
think  this  an  idea  of  to-day  or  yesterday.  Xo, 
it  has  filled  my  mind  for  years.    I  have  never 

3 


THE  YOrXO  PAINTEK. 


seen  a  picture  without  feeling  a  desire  cither  to 
liave  painted  it,  or  to  be  able  to  copy  it.  When- 
ever my  cyc3  fell  upon  any  lovely  scene  or  im- 
age, my  fingers  burned  to  transfer  it  to  paper  or 
canvas.  Dost  thou  think  a  merciful  God  Vv'ouli 
have  gifted  me  with  this  intense  longing,  had 
it  not  been  intended  to  serve  some  good  pur- 
pose ?  Is  it  not  our  duty  to  employ  to  the 
best  advantage  the  tale:it  vrit!i  which  v/o  have 
been  intrusted  ?  " 

Ah,  Gustavus,  into  what  a  sea  of  troubles 
thy  foolish  passion  for  painting  plunges  me  ! 
Even  allowing  thee  to  liave  the  natural  gifts 
requisite  to  success,  where  art  thou  to  find  the 
means  of  pursuing  thy  studies,  and  where 
wilt  thou  find  a  master  ?  IIow  canst  thou 
overcome  the  thousand  obstacles  Avhich  lie  in 
thy  patli  ?  TIiou  secmcst  to  me  like  one  who 
sees  afar  off  a  glittering  palace  which  he  has 
set  his  heart  upon  reacliing,  forgetful  of  the 
broad,  deep  stream  rolling  at  his  feet,  with 
neither  bridge  nor  boat  to  bear  him  across  the 
turbid  waters.  And  even  shouldst  thou  suc- 
ceed in  reaching  the  goal,  it  might  turn  out  to 
be  ajnercair  castlo.'^   


THE  YOUXG  PAINTER. 


27 


"No,  father!"  cried  Gustavus.  "As  I 
stood  this  morning  before  the  altar,  pen- 
etrated with  a  devout  and  prayerful  joy,  and 
as  I  earnestly  implored  of  God  the  fulfilment 
of  my  heart's  desire,  my  soul  was  so  filled 
vrith  a  holy  peace  and  a  cheerful  confidence, 
that  I  now  feel  quite  sure  of  attaining  my  end. 
'  Seek  and  you  shall  find,  ask  and  you  shall 
receive  !  *  Hast  thou  not  often  reminded  me 
of  that  saying  of  our  Lord's  ?  " 

"  But,  Gustavus,  I  must  again  repeat  that  I 
see  no  possibility  of  thy  finding  the  necessary 
means.    How  wilt  thou  even  begin  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  thee  all  as  I  have  thought  it  out. 
Grant  me  one  year,  dear  father  !  I  will  go  to 
Brcslau,  and  will  seek  a  master.  I  will  not 
ceaso  my  search  until  I  have  succeeded.  0, 
father !  It  cannot  be  that  every  door  and 
every  lieart  will  be  closed  against  me  !  Wlien 
I  have  found  one  willing  to  take  pity  on  a  poor 
boy,  I  Vvill  study,  labor,  and  paint,  so  that  the 
very  angels  in  heaven  will  rejoice  ever  my 
success.  But  if  I  am  disappointed,  if  I  find  no 
master,  or  if  I  see  that  I  can  do  notlnng  vrorthy 
cf  thy  con,  I  v^ill  return  at  the  end  cf  the  year. 


28 


THE  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


and  will  consent  to  bccomo  whatever  thou 
mayost  desire." 

The  father  thoughtfully  shook  his  head. 
"  No,  no,"  cried  lie,  after  a  pause,"  that  will 
never  do.  It  would  be  a  sin  in  me  to  let  thee 
thus  depart.  Only  tliink  !  Thou  art  so  young 
to  be  thrown  into  the  turmoil  of  this  bcAvilder- 
ing  world  !  If  thou  sliouldst  meet  with  any 
mishap,  or  if,  througli  thy  very  innocence  and 
want  of  experience,  thou  sliouldst  be  led  into 
sin,  or  tempted  into  evil  ways  !  My  heart  is 
ready  to  break  at  the  very  thought !  " 

"  Is  tliat  thy  fear  ?  0,  dearest  father,  banish 
it  far  from  thee.  Dost  thou  know  me  no  bet- 
t3r  ?  Hast  thou  not  thyself  taught  me  to  liate 
evil  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  and  to  keep 
God  ever  before  my  eyes  and  in  my  soul  ? 
Hear  me,  father  !  By  that  God  who  has  arched 
the  blue  of  his  glorious  lieavens  above  our 
heads,  by  that  Saviour  to  whom  I  have  this 
day  vowed  eternal  fidelity,  I  promise  thee  to 
keep  my  heart  and  my  hand  from  all  unriglit- 
eousness.  Thy  Gustavus  will  always  so  con- 
duct himself  that  thou  wilt  never  have  reason 
to  be  ashamed  of  him  !  " 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


29 


Th3  boy  had  risen  to  his  feet.  Such  joyful 
aESiiraiico,  such  depth  and  truth  cf  holy  rcecln- 
tion  shone  in  his  countenance,  tiiat  the  father 
could  no  longer  resist. 

A  man's  will  is  his  most  sacred  posses- 
sion !  "  said  he.  "  I  know  not  what,  in  spite 
of  my  better  reason,  impels  me  to  yield  to  tliy 
foolish  desire.  Thou  maycst  then  depart.  It 
is  not  impossible  that  the  voice  of  thy  heart 
may  be  tlic  voice  of  God  calling  thee  for  thine 
own  good." 

"  Thou  consentest !  Thou  consentest !  Oh  ! 
now  all  Avill  be  well !  "  joyfully  cried  Gustavus. 
He  tln^ew  himself  into  his  father's  arms,  and 
fairly  overwhelmed  him  with  kisses  and  ca- 
resses. Eraun  finally  withdrew  himself  from 
tlie  boy's  passionate  demonstrations  of  grati- 
tude. 

^'  Come,  come,  my  son  !  said  he,  we 
must  give  tliis  matter  further  consideration. 

e  must  also  ask  counsel  of  thy  mother.  And 
now,  sit  down  and  listen  to  me.  If  thou  art 
about  to  bave  ns,  it  is  doubly  necessary  that  I 
should  relate  to  tliee  precisely  how,  in  the 
wonderful  ways  of  Providence,  thou  cliancedst 

3* 


30 


THE  YOUNG  FAINTER. 


to  bccoino  niy  son.  Ilitlicrto,  all  that  tliou 
liast  known  is,  tlint  I  found  tliC3,  an  i:ifant, 
upon  the  battlo-ricld  of  Loipsic." 

This  recall  to  tho  melancholy  and  mysteri- 
ous circumstances  overshadowing  his  early  life 
at  once  banished  every  trac^  of  the  joyous  ani- 
mation beaming  from  tho  boy's  countenance. 
A  new  and  solemn  interest  took  its  place  as  lio 
silently  seated  himself  by  his  father's  dde. 
Eraun  thus  began  his  narration  :  — 

"  The  List  battle  of  Leipsic  was  a  warmly 
contested  day.  The  armies  waved  to  and  fro, 
like  two  seas  driven  one  against  t!io  otlier  by 
opposing  winds.  The  French  fought  with  the 
energy  of  despair,  and  every  foot  of  ground  Ave 
won  was  covered  with  tho  corpses  of  our  fallen 
enemies.  But  we  strove  with  God,  for  our 
king  and  country,  and  our  foes. were  finally 
forced  to  give  way.  It  was  still  early  in  the 
afternoon  when  the  French  began  to  fall  back 
upon  the  Rliinc.  Those  regiments  whicli 
had  lost  the  fewest  men  Avero  oi-dercd  to  con- 
tinue t!ie  pursuit.  We  pressed  vigorously  on- 
ward, continually  harassing  tho  flying  enemy, 
until  their  ranks  fell  hito  the  Avildcst  disorder. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


31 


"  Great  God !  what  horriblo  siglits  met  our 
eyes!  The  roads,  far  and  iicarj  to  the  riglit 
and  the  left,  were  strewn  with  dead  and  dying 
men,  with  dead  horses,  and  abandoned  or  di;:;- 
abiod  cannons  and  baggage-wagons.  It  was 
a  rcene  of  such  liorrible  and  heart-rending  con- 
fusion, that  to  this  day  my  flesh  creeps  whenever 
I  think  of  it.  All,  Gustaviis,  man  is  fearful 
when  he  meets  his  brother  man  npon  a  batllo- 
field,  where  a  human  life  weighs  no  more  tlian 
a  featlier  in  tlie  scale  !  The  events  of  that  one 
day  at  Leipsic  cost  half  a  world  millions  of 
tears.  But  little  did  we  think  of  tliat ;  cur 
every  nerve  was  strained  to  do  all  possible 
injury  to  our  enemies,  and  not  to  allow  them  a 
moment's  repose. 

^'  It  was  toward  evening  wlicn  we  reached  a 
place  where  the  struggle  had  been  long  and 
desperate,  but  where  the  French  had  at  length 
been  overcome.  The  desolation  was  fearful. 
Our  way  led  over  heaps  of  slain,  and  fragments 
of  every  kind  of  militaiy  appurtenance.  A 
disabled  coach  lying  in  the  road  especially  at- 
tracted our  attention,  ^ly  comrades  hoped  to 
find  a  valuable  booty,  and  quickly  surrounded 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER, 


and  Eackod  tlio  carriago;  I  ctoocl  at  a  llttb  d-is- 
tancc.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  laugli,  and-  a  loud 
cry  of  a  child  !  a  child!'  I  sprang  forward. 
In  Tict,  an  infant  lay  docping  in  a  tiny  bod  on 
the  hack  seat  of  the  carriage.  That  was  indeed  a 
strange  sight!  Only  think  ;  amid  tliosc  bloody 
and  murderous  scenes,  surrounded  by  rude 
and  bearded  warriors,  lay  tlic  child,  beautiful 
as  an  angel,  and  peacefully  sleeping  as  if  repos- 
ing in  the  "arms  of  God  !  Truly,  it  was  neither 
tire  time  nor  the  place  to  busy  one's  self  witli 
children,  but  that  sight  touched  every  fibre  in 
my  heart.  Brothers  !  cried  I,  that  is  my  share 
of  the  booty  !  I  took  the  child  in  my  arms. 
It  awoke,  and  opening  its  two  clear,  dark  eyes, 
turned  them  full  upon  my  face.  God,  thought 
I,  has  surely  watched  over  the  life  of  this  little 
one ;  it  would  be  a  real  child  murder  were  I  to 
leave  it  this  cold,  autumnal  night  amid  the 
horrors  of  the  battle-lield.  AVe  marched  on. 
I  fastened  the  infant  as  well  as  I  could  upon 
my  left  shoulder,  and  either  the  child's  guar- 
dian angel,  or  the  influence  of  its  own  angelic 
loveliness  and  innocence,  must  have  softened 
the  wild  heartb  of  my  comrades,  for  they  made 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


83 


r>.o  attempt  to  impede  my  progress,  and  re- 
frained from  tlio  utterance  of  a  single  rude 
jest." 

Gustavus,  Y,'ho  Lad  thus  far  listened  i:i 
silence,  could  no  longer  control  his  emotion, 
and  burst  into  tears. 

''I  do  not  -svonder  that  thou  Y.^ccpest,  mj 
con,"  said  Braun.  That  child  was  no  other 
tlian  tliyself.  God  only  knot's  how  thou 
chancedst  to  be  in  so  fearful  a  place.  I  have 
always  supposed  that  where  so  young  a  child 
was  found,  the  mother,  or  at  least  the  nurse, 
could  not  be  far  distant.  But  wc  saw  no 
traces  of  any  feminine  presence.  That  is  but 
one  of  the  many  mysteries  buried  beneath  the 
bloody  soil  of  that  Hital  battle-ground,  and  not 
until  the  last  trump  shall  sound,  can  wc  hope 
for  their  revelation. — -As  night  came  on,  wo 
reached  a  larg3  village,  where  wc  rested  during 
a  couple  of  liours,  for  we  were  dreadfully  ex- 
hausted. My  fu-st  care  was  to  seek  some  safe 
place  of  refuge  for  tliee,  as  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  carry  thee  any  farther.  But  this 
was  no  earr^y  matter.  Nearly  all  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  plac9  had  fl^d  }  Jn  yaii^  dicl  ^'o 


Si 


TII12  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


knock  Jit  1^13  do^rs,  and  when  vro  forced  Iheni 
open  ve  Ibuii.l  only  Lilonce  and  desolation 
vritliin.  I  fmall/  succeeded  in  luring  from  Ids 
l:iding-place  a  young  peasant,  vrliose  dwelling 
by  upon  llio  outskirts  of  the  town. 

"  '  Ilcy,  friend  !  '  cried  I  to  liim,  '  tlie  battle 
13  won,  and  tlie  enemy  driven  away,  God  \vill- 
ing,  never  to  return.  Thank  God  for  your 
deliverance ;  and  that  you  may  sliow  your 
gratitude  by  deeds  as  Avell  as  by  words,  I  will 
i.itru^t  you  v^ntli  t:ie  care  of  a  child  I  found 
upon  the  battle-field.' 

"  The  peasant  stood  a  moment  irresolute. 
'  Come,  come,  tliere  is  no  time  for  delay  !  ' 
cried  1,  in  a  I'ougli  voice.  '  I  cannot  take  the 
clilld  v.'itli  me,  an.d  I  will  mo^t  certainly  not 
have  it  upon  tlie  cold  ground  to  perish.  Are 
you  married  ?  '  '  Yes.'  '  h^o  much  the  l)et- 
ter  I  Have  you  any  children  ?  '  ^  One.'  ^  Then 
you  can  easily  take  charge  of  a  second  I  '  At 
that  moment  a  peasant  woman,  who  had  prob- 
ably heard  the  whole  conversation,  crept  fortli 
from  her  place  of  co!iceahnent. 

'There,  my  good  woman,'  said  I,  '  take  the 
child,  and  be  a  mother  to  it.'  . 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


35 


"  Tlio  woman  took  tlico  in  her  arms,  and 
w!icn  sho  saw  liow  forlorn  and  forsakL'n  tliou 
wert,  a  fjcling  of  luimaiiity  aroso  in  licrljrcatt, 
for  dio  said  :  '  Poor  littb  croaturo  !  Well,  yes 
then,  I  Avill,  will  be  a  motlier  to  it !  '  '  God  in 
heaven  reward  you !  *  cried  I,  as  happy  as  a 
king.  '  I  must  now  go.  "When  tlic  war  is 
ended,  should  I  Ltill  be  among  tlie  1^'ing,  I 
will  certainly  return  and  see  what  has  become 
of  the  little  fellow.' 

"  Well,  thou  Avert  then  at  leact  in  safety, 
and  I  felt  as  if  a  heavy  weight  had  been  lifted 
from  my  heart.  At  t!ie  end  of  the  two  hours 
W3  again  moved  on.  The  rest  of  the  tale  thou 
already  knowcst.  Wc  droA'e  tlie  French  over 
tlie  Rhine,  iuA^aded  their  country,  and,  after 
many  a  hard  fig'it,  entered  their  very  capital, — 
Paris.  Peace  was  then  declared,  and  Ave  re- 
turned tD  our  native  land.  Thou  maycst  be 
sure  thou  hadst  not  been  forgotten.  My  way 
home  led  through  Saxony,  and  of  course  1  did 
not  shun  taking  a  little  longer  route,  that  I 
might  again  see  thee. 

"  When  I  entered  the  cot  where  I  had  left 
tlicc,  I  saw  a  little  boy  playing  in  the  sand. 


SG  TIIZ  TOUXG  PAINTER. 

II3  lia:I  a:i  aniiabb  counto:ianc3,  a  ;j^ki:i -  liko 
r.lics  a:id  roses,  and  a  profiisio:i  of  fair,  curling 
locks.  IIo  was,  liowcvor,  A'cry  dirty,  and  cvi- 
dontlj  iicgloctod.  The  peasant  woman  at  that 
moment  made  her  appearance. 

^'  'Well !  '  cried  I,  as  I  gave  her  a  friendly 
greeting,  '  is  that  the  boy  I  left  yritli  you  last 
year  ?  '  '  Yes,  i^ir,  that  is  he.'  I  took  thee  up 
in  my  arms,  and  pressed  a  hearty  kiss  upon 
thy  lips.  I  was  glad  to  see  thee  so  strong  and 
healthy.  Cut  what  was  1  to  do  now  ?  Should 
1  take  thee  Avith  me,  cr  leave  thee  with  those 
wlio  had  tluis  far  taken  care  of  thee  ?  Before 
deciding,  I  determined  to  discover  how  thou 
wert  treated  in  the  house,  and  especially 
whether  tlie  people  loved  thee.  For  this  pur- 
l)Osc,  1  remained  with  them  during  the  whole 
day.  But  the  household  did  not  please  me. 
They  v/cre  uncommonly  rough  people,  and  I 
could  soe  they  cared  but  little  for  thee.  Thoy 
did  not  even  attempt  to  hide  that  they  would  be 
very  glad  to  bo  relieved  of  further  trouble  on 
thy  account. 

"  My  resolution  was  soon  taken.  I  then  had 
plenty  of  money.    We  were  returning  as  viC" 


TIIS  TOUXG  PAIXTER. 


o7 


tors,  and  i.i  a  foroig'-i  land,  without  extortion 
or.  dislionost/,  Ind  liid  many  op;rjrtu:iiLioH  of 
iiicroasing  our  littlo  stores.  I  took  tJ03  Aviih 
m?,  and  engaging  our  passago  in  tli3  poh;t-coac:h 
from  t!io  neighboring  village,  coon  reached  my 
home.  Until  I  married,  my  mother  took 
charge  of  thee,  and  all  the  rect  thou  knovr- 
cst." 

YNHien  Braun  had  finished  his  narration, 
GustaA^us  throA7  himself  sobbing  upon  liis 
bosom. 

"  All,  father  !  "  cried  he,  ho^v  good  thou 
hast  been  to  me  !  What  was  1  to  the3,  that 
thou  shouldst  snatch  me  from  destruction,  and 
bestow  so  much  love  upon  me  ?  My  daily 
prayer  will  ever  be,  that  I  may  repay  thee  for 
all  thou  hast  done  for  me." 

"  I  did  not  do  it  for  reward,  my  son.  My 
only  wish  is  that  thou  mayest  be  an  honest  and 
upright  man.  Then  indeed  Avill  my  joy  be 
full  at  the  thought  of  having  saved  thee.  But 
I  have  yet  one  thing  more  to  say.  As  I  was 
that  evening  bearing  thee  from  the  field  of 
battle,  I  observed  a  small  gold  chain  hanging 
about  thy  neck.    I  drew  it  forth,  and  found 

4 


83 


TIIS  TOUXG  TAIXTEn. 


attachod  to  it  a  tiny  gold  locket.  Here  it  is. 
Pross  tliis  spring,  and  tliou  wilt  soo  £omot:iing 
that  will  surprise  tliee." 

Gustavus  took  tlic  locket  and  pressed  tlio 
spring.  It  flaw  open,  and  his  eye  fell  iipo:i 
the  portrait  of  a  young  and  very  lovely  wo- 
man . 

'•It  is  by  no  means  impossible,"  said  Eraun, 
'•'  tliat  that  may  be  a  portrait  of  thy  mother." 

''  My  mother  !  0  my  mother  !  "  sobbed  tlie 
boy,  as  he  fjrvently  pressed  t!io  picture  to  his 
lips. 

"It  is  tliine  only  inheritance  f.^om  thy  par- 
ents. Take  it  with  tliee.  I  do  not  dare  to 
hope  that  it  may  aid  thee  in  finding  thy  rela- 
tives, for  I  fancy  they  are  more  probably 
French  than  German.  But  the  locket  and 
chain  are  of  considerable  value,  and  diouldtit 
thou  at  any  time  fall  into  great  need,  tliou 
miglitest  perhaps  purchase  tiiy  life  by  dispoi:ing 
of  them." 

Gustavus  made  no  reply.  He  was  sunk  in 
profound  meditation  and  reverie.  An  entirely 
new  world  seemed  to  have  arisen  in  his  i. mer- 
inos t  being.    His  eyes  were  fastcuei  upon  the 


THE  TOUXG  TAIXTER.  SD 

portrait,  intciitl}'  j:tiidyir.g  tlio  cxprcsMon  of 
tliat  iiiilJ  and  boautirul  cou:ito:ia::co,  wl.ic'i, 
with  some  Ltraugo  power,  sconieJ  tj  bo  inter- 
penetrating  liis  very  soul. 

My  mother !  "  whispered  lie  from  time  to 
time,  as  great  tears  rolled  dowly  over  liis 
flushed  cliceks. 

Wlien  his  f.itlicr  finally  called  him,  he  rose 
and  silently  fellowcd  the  good  man  c:i  Lis 
homeward  v/ay. 


C  II  AFTER  III. 


DEPAnTURi:  rr.or.i  iio:.ir,,  and  joup.xey  to 
i:ki£slau 

B?tAUN  was  tormcntod  during  t!i3  "wliolo  of 
tli3  succoodhig  iiigiit  witli  tho  thoiiglit  that  his 
adopted  son  was  aboiit  to  bavo  him,  and  von- 
turo  alone  amid  t!i3  tortuous  paths  of  an  un- 
known Avorld.  lie  ahnost  ropontod  liaving 
yielded  his  consent,  and  his  imagination  painted 
in  the  darkest  colors  the  manifold  dangers  to 
wliich  the  boy's  innocence  and  inexperience 
would  be  exposed.  Early  the  next  morning 
h2  went  to  tlic  pastor  of  t!ie  place,  a  pious  and 
experienced  man,  and  laid  before  him  the 
whole  of  his  doul)ts  and  difficulties.  The  cler- 
gyman reassured  him,  saying  :  — 

"  Your  Gustavus  is  a  very  extraordinary 
boy,  and  Ave  may  hence  anticipate  for  him  no 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTEH, 


41 


common  clostiny.  Yv  hat  would  prove  tlio  ruin 
of  a  boy  endowed  with  meaner  capacities  and  a 
weaker  c-iaracter  may  perhaps  be  for  him  the 
means  of  superior  elevation  and  finer  culture, 
lie  was  born  Avith  a  strong  natural  tendency 
toward  goodness  and  virtue ;  he  has  been  care- 
fully instructed  in  the  LiNvofGod;  and  hence 
I  tliink  we  liave  little  or  nothing  to  apprehend 
from  his  intercourse  with  the  world.  lie  will 
be  the  less  easily  tempted,  because  evil  of  every 
kind  is  repulsive  to  his  very  nature.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  he  is  really  gifted  with  an  extraor- 
dinary talent  for  painting.  I  never  met  with 
a  boy  in  whom  a  noble  instinct  liad  so  decidedly 
pointed  the  v^-'ay  to  his  future  profession.  AH 
his  ideas,  and  everything  he  touches,  invohm- 
tarily  mould  tliemselves  into  plastic  or  picto- 
rial forms.  Your  son,  in  fact,  could  riOt  well 
be  anything  but  a  painter.  In  our  village  lie 
will  have  no  opportunity  of  acquiring  the  req- 
uisite knowledge:  he  musl  go  to  the  city,  ar.d 
the  sooner  the  better,  for  art  is  long,  and  life 
io  short.  Y^e  will  then  permit  liim  to  depart. 
I  do  not  doubt  his  success,  and  that  he  will  in 
the  end  become  a  very  remarkable  man.  Re- 

4 


42 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTEn. 


mombor  that  t'n  rarest  and  most  precious 
j-3wols  ahvays  require  the  sharpest  iiistruineiit?, 
and  the  most  assiduous  labor,  to  give  them  llie 
polish  of  which  they  are  susceptible.  The 
greatest  and  noblest  men  are  almost  invariably 
tliose  who  have  been  severely  tried  in  t!ie 
ccliool  of  adversity.  Let  us  trust  in  God,  t!iat 
li3  will  not  permit  our  Gustavus  to  be  tempted 
beyond  his  strength." 

Braun  departed  v/ith  a  lightened  heart.  Guc- 
tavus  had  meanwliile  retreated  tj  the  little 
corner  in  his  father's  house  Aviiere  he  kept 
his  scanty  stock  of  treasures,  consisting  of  a 
pencil,  a  few  paints,  some  bits  of  white  paper, 
and  a  portfolio,  wiiicli  he  had  himself  made 
and.  carefully  ornamented.  This  pretty  effort 
of  the  boy's  invention  contained  liis  little  store 
of  fixtures,  a  portion  of  whicli  he  had  pur- 
chased witli  his  scanty  savings  from  itinerant 
picture-dealers,  Avhile  the  remainder  had  from 
thne  to  time  been  given  him  by  various  persons 
who  had  been  struck  v/itli  his  aptitude  and 
fjndness  for  tlie  noble  arts  of  colorino*  and 
design.  Here,  also,  were  some  of  his  own  at- 
tempts, neatly  executed  on  vrhite  paper,  and 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


43 


cclorcd  \AVa  all  the  tasto  possibb,  considering 
tlio  moagro  contents  of  his  paint-box. 

Ilitliorto  liis  portrolio  had  been  his  most 
doarlj  prized  earthly  possession,  hut  he  iiov*^ 
regarded  tlie  locket  containing  tlio  lovely  por- 
trait as  a  treasure  far  more  precious  than  any 
he  had  previously  called  his  own.  That  he 
miglit  never  be  parted  from  it,  he  fastened  tlie 
chain  round  his  neck,  and  placed  the  locket  on 
his  breast,  beneath  his  clothes. 

But  he  was  also  determined  not  to  part  with 
his  portfolio,  and  hence  was  very  busy  in  ar- 
ra:iging  its  contents,  and  laying  aside  all  that 
seemed  to  him  unworthy  of  preservation. 
Many  pictures  were  promptly  decided  upon, 
while  others  caused  him  mucli  tnouglit  and 
many  regrets.  All  were  in  fact  beloved  confi- 
dants, reminding  him  of  some  happy  hour, 
wlien  he  had  felt  inspired  to  create  some  dur- 
able memorial  of  his  fleeting  impressions. 

0  ye  rich  !  Had  ye  seen  tlie  boy  thus  occu- 
pied, lowly  stooping  over  his  treasures  scattered 
upon  the  bare  floor,  with  his  happy  face,  and 
his  heart  fairly  bubbling  over  with  joyous 
hopes,  —  tlie  poor  boy,  who  could  call  nothin;^ 


44 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


liis  own,  savo  a  vigorous  frame  and  a  riclily 
gifted  soul,  —  liad  ye  seen  how  he  associated 
a  happy  and  glorious  future  with  tlicse  few 
childish  efforts,  ye  would  surely  have  opened 
your  coffers,  and  thence  liave  procured  for  hiin 
an  entrance  to  the  noble  kingdom  of  Art,  and 
the  mea]is  of  attaining  the  proud  height  to 
whicli  nature  had  destined  him ! 

AVho  could  be  liappier  tlian  Gustaviis,  when 
on  his  father's  return  lie  learned  that  the  pas- 
tor had  not  only  approved  of  liis  design,  but 
liad  succeeded  in  allaying  all  the  good  forest- 
er's doubts  and  fears.  The  cottagers  were 
soon  busily  engaged  in  making  the  necessary 
preparations  for  tlie  boy's  journey.  To  tlie 
lionor  of  the  mother,  we  must  say,  that  she  had 
great  difficulty  in  reconciling  herself  to  tliis 
sudden  and  unexpected  change  in  tlie  arrange- 
ment of  her  little  household.  She  made  many 
objections,  and  almost  tearfully  besought  Gus- 
tavus  to  remain  yet  a  little  longer  under  the 
parental  roof,  and  not  so  young  to  venture  out 
into  a  fearful  and  unknown  world.  She  prom- 
ised him  every  motherly  care  and  attention, 
and  when  she  found  tliat  licr  rcprcsciitatiqns 


TIIS  YOUXG  TAINTEK. 


4.5 


liad  no  effect  i:i  changing  lior  liusband'c  or 
Gustaviis's  resolution,  dio  did  her  best  to  fnipply 
her  adopted  con  v/it!i  all  he  could  need  for  his 
journey.  She  carefully  mended  and  arranged 
his  under-garments,  adding  tliereto  from  t!ie 
clotli  woven  for  her  own  little  ones.  Gustavus 
was  deeply  touclied,  and  all  the  bitterncLS 
wliich  the  memory  of  former  ill  treatment 
occasionally  woke  in  his  soul  vanished  in  the 
gush  of  grateful  tears  which  the  siglit  of  his 
adopted  mother's  kindness  drew  from  his  eyes. 

Time  sped,  and  tlie  hour  of  departure  came 
at  list !  All  was  in  readiness  ;  a  passi)ort  had 
been  obtained  from  th6  proper  aufnorities,  and 
the  parting  visits  had  all  been  made.  At  t!ie 
first  break  of  dawn,  Braun  and  Gustavus  left 
the  cottage.  The  heart  of  tlie  latter  was  full, 
almost  to  bursting.  lie  must  now  leave  behind 
liim  all  the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  not  indeed 
strewed  with  roses,  yet  enlivened  by  mar.y  a 
happy  hour.  Every  step  recalled  to  his  mem- 
ory the  various  scenes  and  events  of  his  inno- 
cent childhood.  It  wos  no  vro:ider  that  his 
eyes  were  fdled  with  tears,  a:id  tliat  not  a  word 
was  sijokcu.as  tho  father  and  son  ascended  tho 


4G 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTrPt. 


IrJl  dividing  the  r.ccliidod  valby  fi'oin  llio  bvol 
country  0:1  the  opposite  side.  Tliey  reached 
t!ie  summit  just  as  tlie  su:i  Avay  rising. 

V/o  must  part  licre,  mj  son,"  said  Braun. 
Looh,  how  brightly  and  clearly  t!ie  sun  13 
rising !  May  the  morning  of  tliy  n2\Y  life 
promise  as  fair  a  day  !  1  can  no  longer  v.-atch 
over  the3,  and  can  only  accompa:iy  tliee  vrith 
my  prayers  and  good  'wishes.  Eut  I  give  tliee 
into  the  hands  of  one  who  is  a  tender  and  Ijv- 
i:ig  Fatlier  to  all  the  children  of  cartli.  'My 
son,  keep  God  ever  before  tliino  eyes  and  in 
thy  heart,  and  beware  of  evil.  Sullcr  no  sinful 
thouglit,  word,  or  deed  to  stain  the  purity  of 
t!:y  Svoul.  Mayest  tliou  find  all  t!iou  scekest ! 
Dut  sliould  th3  v.^orLl  fail  thee,  remember  tliat 
thou  still  hast  a  father,  and  a  father's  liouse. 
And  now,  farewell !  God  and  his  angels  be 
ever  with  thee  !  " 

Gustavus  wept  aloud,  and  throwing  his  arms 
round  liis  father's  neck,  exclaimed  :  "  Fatlier, 
dear  father  !    Thanks,  a  thousand  thanks  I  " 

His  utterance  Avas  stifled  by  the  A'iolence  of 
liis  emotion,  and  he  could  say  no  more.  Lraun 
gently  disengaged  liimsclf  from  Hk)  boy's  cm- 


Tin:  YOUNG   TA INTER. 


47 


brace.  ITc,  tvoo,  vras  dooply  moved,  cii;d,  turn- 
ing away,  Avalkcd  lliouglitfullj  liomcivard. 

Giistavus  Avas  thus  at  lengtli  alono.  Bcliiiid 
liira  lay  the  narrow  valley,  Avith  its  tender 
memories  of  liis  childish  days,  while  before 
liim  a  vast  and  unknown  v/orld  stretched  far 
away  toward  tlie  distant  horizon.  The  feeling* 
of  his  loneliness,  and  the  consciousness  tliat 
there  was  now  no  or.c  to  Avhom  he  could  turn 
for  aid  and  counsel,  painfully  oppressed  liim. 
He  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  gave  vent  to  his 
emotions  in  silent  but  fervent  prayer. 

Eut,  most  fortunately,  he  v/as  not  of  a  char- 
acter long  or  weakly  to  yield  to  melancholy 
thoughts.  His  youtli,  courage,  and  cheerful 
disposition  coon  gained  tlic  victory  over  liis 
depression.  His  long-clicrishod  wish  Avas  final- 
ly fulfilled,  and  he  know  tliat,  if  ho  Avould 
Avin  the  substance  of  the  sweet  dreams  and 
aspirations  Avhich  had  so  mysteriously  stirred 
Avithin  his  soul,  he  must  tread  steadily  onAvard, 
and  reach  the  far  blue  distance  noAV  glcamir.g 
in  the  brilliant  mornhig  light.  He  stretched 
fortli  his  arms  as  if  in  greeting  toAvard  tlie 
plahi,  tightened  t!ie  cord  that  bound  his  Lttb 


43 


THE  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


bundb,  and  trod  CAviftlj  and  firmly  over  tlic 
pathway  tliat  was  to  bad  him  to  his  uiikiiovrn 
destiny. 

It  was  a  lovely  spring  morning.  Far  above 
him  floated  the  tlioiisand-voiced  chorus  of  t!ie 
larks,  tlie  finches  twittered  in  tlie  groves,  and 
tlie  firit  ^tarks  proudly  etalked  across  the 
grasey  meadows.  The  country  people  were  on 
every  Lide  occupied  in  furrowing  t]ie  land,  and 
soAving  the  golden  seeds  of  the  future  harvest. 
Evorywliere  appeared  the  signs  cf  an  active 
and  joyous  life,  of  a  thorougli  renovation  of  all 
the  powers  of  nature. 

All  this  filled  our  3'oung  fi'ien.d's  heart  with 
unspeakable  delight.  Vv  itli  an  eye  ever  open 
to  beauty  of  every  kind,  nature  kept  no  se- 
crets from  him.  Every  flower  told  its  own 
tale,  and  every  waving  tree  softly  whispered  its 
gentle  story  in  his  listening  ear.  It  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  tlio  pure  in  heart,  of  tliose  ^y]\^ 
hearken  to  the  voice  of  God  within  their  souls, 
to  ever  find  in  nature  a  dear  and  confidential 
friend,  a  .never-failing  source  of  the  purest  and 
most  rapturous  deliglit.  All  disquiet  and  every 
sorrow  must  be  soothed  by  t!io  holy  peace  and 


TIIS  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


49 


liarmoiiious  lifo  whicli  flow  witli  tlio  brcatli  of 
God  tlirougli  all  the  veins  of  creation.  That 
■\vo  £0  seldom  And  this  consolation,  this  exalted 
repose,  must  bo  the  result  of  some  fault  in  our- 
selves ;  our  insatiable  desires,  our  glowing 
passions,  our  sins,  step  in  between  us  and  be- 
ncriccnt  nature,  so  that  wo  see  only  her  out- 
ward form,  only  the  rudo  materials,  while  tlio 
living,  breathing  spirit  of  God,  sustaining  and 
glorifying  tlio  wliob  creation,  escapes  our  view 
and  eludes  our  comprcliension. 

Gustavus  was  besides  a  born  artist,  that  is 
to  say,  he  saw  tlie  v/Iiolo  creation  in  its  mani- 
fold relations  to  the  beautiful,  and,  as  the  pas- 
tor had  said,  everything,  for  him,  at  once 
became  a  picture.  His  fancy  was  continually 
occupied  in  grouping  together  the  lovely  forms 
presented  by  external  nature,  or  arising  from 
within,  —  t]ic  growtli  of  his  own  imagination. 
Yio  cannot,  then,  wonder  that  he  felt  neither 
the  bngth  of  the  way  nor  the  dreariness  of  sol- 
itude. His  steps  were  winged,  and  his  counte- 
nance beamed  witli  liappy  smiles.  Who,  among 
the  occupants  of  tliO  comfortable  vehicles  from 
time  to  time  rolling  past,  would  have  thought 

5 


50 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTKR. 


that  t^iat  clicorfiil,  smiling  lad,  without  money, 
.  Avitliout  friends,  without  prospects  of  any  kind, 
impelled  solely  by  the  mysterious  promptings 
of  his  own  heart,  was  just  entering  a  A'ast  and 
.unknown  world,  v/ith  the  intention  of  conse- 
crating his  life  to  an  art  of  which  he  as  yet 
knew  but  little  more  tlian  tlie  name,  and  of 
whose  deptlis  and  dilncultics  he  had  not 
fahitcst  conception. 


c  n  A  F  T  E  R  I  y . 


GUSTAyU3    SEEKS    A    KASTEK,    AND    EAXCIES  1113 
SEARCH  SUCCESSEUL. 

On  tlio  third  day  after  Ills  dopartiiro,  Giista- 
Tus  reached  the  capital.  The  buoyant  liopes 
Avhicli  had  sustained  him  during  hiis  journey 
tlu'ough  the  open  country,  Avith  the  free,  blue 
vault  of  heaven  overliead,  began  to  desert  liini 
as  lie  approached  the  place  where  the  myo  tic 
scroll  of  his  future  destiny  was  to  be  unrolled. 
On  every  side  beautiful  dwellings,  surrounded 
by  neat  and  tasteful  gardens,  met  his  view  ; 
but  to  one  accustomed  to  the  freedom  of  the 
hills,  to  the  vast  forms  of  the  mountains,  and 
the  shady  recesses  of  the  woods  and  vales,  all 
looked  so  narrow  and  confined  !  The  turmoil 
gradually  increased,  and  the  boy's  heart  beat 
quicker  and  faster,  until  lio  finally  found  him- 


52 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


eclf  ill  Vaq  midst  cf  tho  bustle  and  confusion 
cliaractcrizing  tho  more  IVcquontod  parts  of 
3nost  largo  cities.  Hundreds  of  pedestrians 
came  streaming  toward  him,  and  liundrods 
more  bore  him  onward  with  the  living  current. 
Carriage  after  carriage  rolled  rapidly  past, 
Avhile  innumerable  carts  and  ioadcd  v.agons 
tlninderod  heavily  over  the  stonus.  His  cars 
v.'ore  deafened  hj  tho  ceaseless  and  bewildering 
clatter.  As  he  advanced,  tho  streets  became 
narrower,  the  houses  higher,  and  the  tlu'ong 
more  dense.  At  every  moment  £,omcthing 
new,  Ltrange,  a:id  wonderful  claimed  his  atten- 
tion. He  was  especially  astonished  vritli  the 
])rofusio:i  cf  objects  hitherto  unknown  to  him 
displayed  in  the  windows  of  the  splendid 
stores. 

Vv^ithout  exactly  knowing  how,  he  finally 
reached  the  market-place,  in  the  very  centre  of 
th.e  city,  where  trade  was  most  bustling  and 
active,  and  the  display  of  wealth  most  dazzling. 

There  he  stood,  —  poor  (xustavus  ! 

A  fjeling  of  utter  loneliness  and  helplessness 
stole  oven-  him.  T!ie  busy  citizens  hastened- 
past,  all  occupied  Avith  their  own  affairs,  talk- 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


53 


ing  and  laxigliiiig  togctlicr,  or  absorbed  i:i  tlic 
consideration  of  some  weighty  speculation,  and 
not  one  had  a  word  or  even  a  glance  of  sympa- 
thy to  bestow  upon  the  friendless  boy. 

Whither  should  he  turn  ?  How  should  ho 
begin  ?  For  the  first  time  did  he  tremble  at 
tlie  thought  of  having  ventured  alone  and  Avith- 
out  a  guide  into  the  whirl  and  tumult  of  the 
outer  world.  A  course  which,  afar  off  in  the 
primitive  simplicity  of  a  rural  district,  had 
seemed  to  him  perfectly  easy  and  natural,  now 
assumed  the  aspect  of  a  gigantic  undertaking, 
beyond  the  remotest  bounds  of  possibility. 
Where  was  he  to  look  for  a  master  to  instriico 
him  in  the  art  of  painting  ?  And  when  found, 
how  could  lie  hope  that  an  entire  stranger 
vrould  take  any  interest  in  an  luiknown  boy  ? 
In  vain  did  ho  endeavor  to  ask  a  single  ques- 
tion of  any  member  of  the  motley  throng  hasten- 
ing past :  the  vrords  died  upon  his  lips.  Op- 
pressed by  the  weight  of  these  new  thouglits 
and  impressions,  exhausted  in  body  and  mind, 
h2  sank  upon  tlie  steps  of  the  court-liouse. 
His  heart  was  sorely  troubled.  He  thouglit  of 
liis  home,  of  the  green  hills,  of  the  peaceful 

5* 


54 


TirZ  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


cottage  i:i  tlio  "wood,  of  liir,  good  fj-tlicr,  and  cf 
liis  dear  llttb  brotliors  and  sisters  !  lie  Ijiiged 
fur  wings  to  fl/  away  and  see  tlieni  all  once 
more.  Those  inelanclioly  tliouglits  and  dear 
remembrances  finally  overcame  liim,  and  he 
burst  into  an  agony  of  tears. 

lie  sat  tlras,  until  the  increasing  darkness 
warned  him  of  tlie  necessity  of  seeking  some 
slicltor  for  t!ie  uiglit.  He  at  once  compre- 
licndcd  that  t!ie  stately  mansions  fjr  travellers, 
vrhicli  he  had  passed  on  his  way  to  tlic  market- 
place, were  no  abodes  for  him  ;  and,  retracing 
his  steps,  lie  finally  stopped  at  an  inn  in  one 
of  t!ie  suburbs,  purporting  to  offer  rest  and 
food  to  wagoners  and  country  ])eople.  Here, 
after  partaking  of  a  scanty  meal,  lie  flung 
himself  upon  a  straw-bed,  and  soon,  in  a  long 
and  heavy  sleep,  forgot  all  his  cares  and  sor- 
rows. 

The  following  morning,  he  awoke  witli  a 
lighter  heart  and  renewed  courage.  IJis  j)Osi- 
tion  seemed  to  him  less  ho'pcless.  lie  had  as 
yet  made  no  effort  to  attain  his  end ;  how,  tlien, 
could  he  already  feel  like  despairing  ?  lie 
went  very  early  i:ita  t!ie  city,  and  tlie  pure  rays 


TIIZ  YOUXG  rAINTL:r« 


55 


of  t'i3  moriiiiig  run  lliro'vV  quito  a  ncvr  liglit 
u;)o:i  its  hmy  streets  and  lofty  cdificos.  His 
Ijvj  cf  beauty  was  at  o:ic3  captivated  by  tlio 
-palatial  dwellings  adorning  even  the  suburbs. 

F.'o:n  t!i3  lofty  towers  resounded  the  deep- 
toned  bells,  calling  the  faitlifiil  to  prayer.  Tlio 
cliurc-ios  are  in  every  land  the  only  buildings 
vrliich  liospitably  open  their  doors  to  all  witli- 
out  exception,  to  the  rich  and  the  poor,  to  the 
hapi)y  and  the  miserable.  Gustavus  Loon 
fjuiid  himself  within  a  lofty  church,  and  a  nev^ 
Y.'oild  of  v^'onders  vras  hero  presented  to  his 
aj:tonibhed  senses. 

How  boldly  rose  the  majestic  arch  roofiiig 
the  main  ai^le,  how  gracefully  towered  t/.e 
two  rows  of  miglity  colunnis,  and  liow  tho 
altar  in  the  far  perspective  glittered  with  its 
gilded  carvings,  its  paintings,  and  its  etatues  ; 
how  gloriously  broke  tho  liglit  of  morning 
tlu'ougli  the  narrow  but  lofty  {.taincd-ghits 
windows  I  Of  such  paintings  as  covered  tlio 
walls  and  adorned  tho  altar  Gustavus  had 
never  even  dreamed.  What  noble  forms  1 
What  expression  in  tho  countenances  !  Vriiat 
gloriouu  coloring  I 


5G 


Intoxicatod  vrith  doliglit,  Gustavus  lias- 
t3:icd  from  o:\o  to  anotlior,  and  finally  ccatod 
himself  baforo  ono  Avhicli  had  cxcitod  his  espe- 
cial admiration.  It  was  a  Christ  in  tlic  gar- 
den of  Geth.semane.  The  divine  form  seemed 
quivering  'ncatli  tlie  anguish  of  the  mome:it, 
and  tlie  prayer,  "  Father,  if  it  be  thy  Avill, 
remove  this  cup  from  me,"  rcemed  struggling 
on  the  lips.  High  overhead  the  heavens  vrere 
opened,  and  an  angel,  bearing  in  his  right  hand 
the  inevitable  cross,  seemed  about  descending. 
Tlie  light  streaming  from  above  fell  full  iipon 
the  Saviour,  whib  tlie  remainder  of  tlie  pie-- 
ture  Avas  enveloped  in  darkness.  Bclo^7  lay 
th3  sleeping  figures  of  the  three  disciples,  —  the 
mild  John,  the  fiery  Peter,  and  the  wise  and 
earnest  James.  The  profound  quiet  and  repose 
characterizing  the  attitudes  of  the  sleepers  pre- 
sented a  most  striking  contrast  to  the  agony  of 
spirit,  tlie  holy  suffering,  expressed  in  every 
lineament  of  their  Master's  countenance. 

Gustavus  was  spell-bound,  and  thought  he 
could  never  weary  of  gazing  on  that  picture ; 
and  when  at  length  the  full  tones  of  the  organ 
anuouuccd  the  commcnccmeut  of  tlic  sorvicCj 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTElt. 


57 


tiio  boy's  licad  sank  in  prayer ;  past,  present, 
and  future  seemed  to  pass  away  from  liis  mind  ; 
he  felt  only  joy  and  devotion  ;  all  his  douljts 
and  uncertainties  had  vanished,  and  when  he 
arose,  he  felt  strengthened  for  the  combat  of 
life,  and  interpenetrated  with  fervent  gratitude 
to  the  great  Creator,  who  had  not  only  permit- 
ted him  to  enjoy  his  works  in  the  realm  of  na- 
ture, but  had  now  revealed  to  him  the  lofty 
things  that  were  to  bo  accomplished  by  genius 
and  a  pure  inspiration  in  the  realm  of  art. 

The  service  was  over ;  the  throng  dispersed  ; 
Gustavus  alone  remained  in  the  church  ;  nor 
did  he  think  of  departing  until  the  sacristan 
aroused  him  from  his  reverie  by  reminding  him 
of  the  necessity  of  closing  the  doors.  The  boy 
hastened  out  into  the  street.  Consoled  and 
strengthened  by  the  short  commune  with  trut'i, 
beauty,  and  divine  love  which  had  been  vouch- 
safed him  in  the  temple,  he  felt  his  hopes  re- 
vive, and  he  determined  at  once  to  pursue  the 
object  of  his  search.  During  the  course  of  that 
day  he  learned  the  names  and  addresses  of 
three  painters,  but  all  his  efforts  seemed  to 
brmg  him  no  iicarci'  to  his  goal.    Tb.c.  first  was 


£8 


THE  YOUNG  TAlNTrn. 


not  nt  liorao,  l.io  second  refused  to  ceo  liini, 
and  t'i3  tliird,  after  listening  1o  liis  little  Inc- 
torj,  doclined  rendering  hiin  any  assistance, 
and,  Avith  a  chrug  of  tlie  shoulders,  bade  l:::n 
depart. 

Even  this  experience,  liowever,  conld  not 
iitterlj'  destroy  the  boy's  confidence.  He 
thought,  If  I  do  not  succeed  to-day,  I  may, 
perhaps,  to-mori'ow.  Ihit  that  liappy  morrov/" 
seemed  in  no  haste  to  dawn  upon  our  hero ; 
fj;ir  days  had  already  elapsed  since  his  first 
crrival  in  the  city,  the  little  fund  Avith  whhcli 
liis  father  had  supplied  him  was  nearly  cx- 
liausted,  and  yet  he  was  no  nearer  to  the  fnl- 
fdme:it  of  liis  hopes  than  Avhen  he  had  first 
entered  tlie  capital. 

Vain  plans  and  fruitless  efforts  occupied  tlie 
weary  hours.  Gustavus  became  very  anxious, 
and  at  lengtli  almost  despaired.  The  church 
was  the  only  j^lace  Avhere  he  found  consolation 
and  repose. 

One  day,  when  most  dispirited  and  down- 
(learted,  he  seated  himself  upon  a  bench  by  the 
vrayside.  His  little  portfolio  lay  at  his  feet. 
[Ivoiv  this  traasuro  no  longer  afforded  him  anjt 


I 


Tin:   YOUNG  PAINTER. 


50 


j^loasurc.  During  tlic  fow  clays  just  past  lio 
liad  seen  so  inucli  tliat  vras  grand  and  beauti- 
ful, that  his  o^vn  attempts  appeared  to  him  ut- 
terly "wortldcss.  He  had  begun  to  entertain 
serious  doubts  of  liis  own  ability  and  vocation. 

His  attention,  liowever,  being  suddenly  at- 
tracted by  a  group  of  trees  which  struck  him 
as  unusually  beautiful  and  picturesque,  lie 
drew  forth  a  sheet  of  paper  and  commenced  a 
sketch.  While  thus  occupied,  a  stranger  camo 
and  seated  himself  upon  a  neighboring  bencli, 
whence  he  watched  the  progress  of  tlie  boy's 
work.  After  a  few  moments  of  silent  observa- 
tion, lie  addressed  Gustavus,  saying,  — 

"  You  arc  making  a  charming  picture.  Will 
you  let  me  see  it  ?  " 

Gustavus  placed  the  drawing  in  the  stran- 
ger's liaiid. 

"  Indeed,"  continued  tlic  latter,  "  lliis  sliows 
considerable  skill.  You  probably  belong  to 
one  of  our  city  schools  !  " 

"  0  no  !  I  do  not  live  liero.'^ 

"  Well !  you  must  at  least  have  studied  in  a 
good  schooL  You  depict  nature  to  tlic  very 
life.    From  whom  have  you  learned  ?  " 


CO 


TnE  YOUNG  PAIXTER. 


"  From  myself.    I  never  had  a  master." 

"  That  13  really  astoiiisliing.  Wheiice  come 
you,  and  who  are  your  parents  ?  " 

Gustavus  replied  briefly  but  candidly,  with- 
out, however,  mentioning  the  cause  of  liis  jour- 
ney to  the  city,  or  his  present  gloomy  pros- 
pects. 

"  But  Vvdiat  do  you  intend  to  do  in  th.is 
city  ?  "  asked  tlie  stranger. 

I  intend  to  be  a  painter.  Cf  course  I 
could  not  pursue  my  studies  in  th.e  village, 
and  with  my  fatlier's  permission  I  came  ta 
Breslau  in  search  of  a  master." 

Have  you  the  necessary  means  ?  " 
Ah  no  !  "  said  Gustavus  with  a  blush  ;  1 
have  only  a  few  pennies." 

But  you  have  letters  of  introduction  ?  " 
"  No,  indeed  !    I  have  not  a  single  acquaint- 
ance in  Breslau." 

"  And  how,  then,  do  you  expect  to  attain 
your  purpose  of  learning  the  art  of  painting?  " 

1  hoped  to  find  some  master  wdiom  my  en- 
treaties might  move  to  take  me  as  his  pupil." 

The  stranger  laughed,  but  soon  assuming  a 
serious  aspect,  continued, — 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER, 


CI 


Isly  young  friend,  you  aro  cvidciilly  very 
ignorant  of  tho  ways  of  the  world,  ncitlici* 
doos  your  father  seem  to  bo  mucli  more  cxpo- 
rioncod  ;  otherwise  you  Avould  botli  have  seen 
tlie  impracticability  of  your  present  course." 

Eut  wliat  can  I  do,  now  that  I  have  taken 
this  ^tcp  ?  "  cried  Gustavus,  his  eyes  filling 
vritli  tears. 

The  stranger  made  no  reply,  but,  as  if  lort 
in  thought,  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  little 
portfolio  Avhich  Gustavus  had  willingly  sub- 
mitted to  his  inspection.  One  most  deeply 
versed  in  tho  knowledge  of  mankind  would 
liavc  been  puzzled  in  divining  the  purposes 
and  intentions  concealed  by  the  stranger's  cold 
and  impassive  countenance.  Ho  suddenly  in- 
terrupted liis  apparently  profound  meditation 
by  saying,  — 

"  Can  you  write  ?  I  mean,  do  you  write  a 
good^hand  ?  " 

1  tlnnk  so.  My  master  considered  mo  his 
best  rcholar." 

^'  \\\\\  yon  give  mo  a  specimen  ?  " 

Gustavus  wrote  a  few  lines  in  a  clear  and 
beautiful  hand. 


C2 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTKR. 


"  Tliat  is,  indeed,  very  "svell  done.  It  nmj 
prove  iiscful." 

The  stranger  again  seemed  absorbed  i;i 
Ihoiiglit.  Gustavus,  meanwhile,  had  time  to 
observe  him  more  closely,  lie  was  a  vrell- 
dresscd,  middle-aged  man.  His  face  was  ])ab 
and  deeply  wrinkled,  his  eyes  brilliant,  but 
overshadowed  by  heavy  brows.  Had  Gusta- 
vus been  more  conversant  with  t!ic  various 
types  of  humanity,  he  would  have  mistrusted 
tliat  face  and  eye.  Of  course  no  sucli  idea 
presented  itself  to  his  mind,  and  he  was  only 
too  happy  to  be  thus  sympatliizingly  noticed  by 
a  strano'er. 

After  a  somewhat  lengthy  pause,  the  un- 
known again  resumed, — 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,  my  young  friend; 
your  simplicity  and  inexperience  have  placed 
you  in  a  very  awkward  position.  But  take 
courage ;  fate  may  yet  be  propitious.  A  liappy 
accident  has  thrown  in  your  way  all  tliat  you 
Lought  in  vain.    I  am  a  painter  !  " 

You  a  painter  ?  "  cried  Gustavus,  joyfully 
springing  to  his  feet  and  seizing  the  stranger's 
hand. 


I 


THE   YOUNG  rAlNTER. 


C3 


Yes,  I  am  a  painter,  and  one  by  no  means 
unknown  to  fame.  3Iy  pictures  adorn  all  our 
exhibitions.  Did  you  never  bear  of  tlie  cele- 
brated Feldberg  ? 

Gustavus  bluslied  as  lie  confessed  bis  igno- 
rance. "  All !  I  forgot  you  were  from  tbo 
country.  Of  course  you  never  beard  of  me 
there.  I  feel  deeply  interested  in  your  fate. 
You  are  endowed  with  unmistakable  talent!" 

The  boy's  frame  quivered  witli  the  excess 
of  delight  which  these  words  occasioned  in 
his  soul. 

"  I  will  take  you  as  my  pupil,"  continued 
the  stranger  ;  "  that  is,  if  you  are  willing." 

"If  I  am  willing!"  cried  Gustavus,  ca^:t- 
ing  a  grateful  glance  toward  heaven. 

"  You  may  then  begin  with  me ;  there  is 
a  place  open  for  you.  You  are  poor;  I  aek 
no  pay,  and  you  will  eat  at  my  own  table." 

"  0  thou  almighty  God !  "  cried  Gustavus, 
"how  have  1  deserved  this  blessing?" 

The  boy's  delight  Avas  so  boundless  and  in- 
expressible, that  he  could  scarcely  refrain  from 
flinging  liimself  at  the  stranger's  feet. 

"  Come,  cliild,  moderate  your  rapture.  Now 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


If  3'ou  aro  to  bo  my  pupil  without  inj  cxict- 
ing  from  you  tlio  slightest  compoiisatioii,  you 
will  readily  comprehend  that  I  have  a  right 
to  make  a  few  conditions." 

"  I  will  joyfully  do  all  you  can  ask  of  mo  !  " 

"  The  first  condition  is,  that  you  punctually 
and  unhesitatingly  accomplish  all  that  1  set 
before  you  to  do.    Will  you  promise  mo  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  most  willingly  !  " 
The  second  is,  that  you  ask  no  questions 
concerning  any  task  I  may  require  you  to  ex- 
cute.    Will  you  also  agree  to  that?" 

"  I  will,"  replied  Gustavus. 

"  Well,  then,  the  third  and  last  is,  that  you 
must  be  very  industrious !  You  will  liave 
but  little  time  at  your  own  disposal,  and  hence 
it  will  be  best  for  you  to  leave  the  house  as 
seldom  as  possible.  If  you  think  3^ou  will  not 
find  the  confincmont  irksome,  our  bargain  is 
concluded." 

Gustavus  found  no  fault  with  this  condition, 
and  readily  acquiesced. 

"  Give  me  your  hand  then,"  said  the  stran- 
ger. Now  wo  mutually  understand  each 
other." 


THE  TOUNG  rAINTER. 


Cj 


nad  Gustavus  boon  loss  absorbed  in  llic  cx- 
t^oss  of  his  own  delight,  ho  might  pcrliaps  havo 
observed  the  cunning  and  mysterious  smile 
which  flitted  athwart  the  stranger's  hard  fea- 
tures as  the  boy  coniidingly  placed  his  little 
hand  in  t:ic  offered  clasp. 

Now,  my  lad,  wo  will  go  for  your  clothes, 
and  then  you  will  accompany  mc  home." 

They  wont.  The  boy's  face  was  radiant 
with  joy,  and  his  step  lighter  than  it  liad  been 
far  many  a  weary  day.  Poor  lad  !  He  little 
thought  he  had  contracted  an  engagement 
threatening  the  most  fearful  consequences. 
Let  us  not  Avonder  at  his  simplicity,  for  cf 
evil  he  barely  knew  more  than  tlic  name, 
and  he  had  hitherto  met  with  no  bad  men. 
lie  had  never  heard  of  those  specious  evil- 
doers who  lurk  in  the  by-ways  of  great  cities, 
pursuing  all  kinds  of  infamous  avocations,  and 
ever  ready  to  ensnare  the  young  and  inexperi- 
enced. His  noble  and  affectionate  heart  lay 
trustingly  open  to  his  fellow-mortals,  and  how 
could  he  suspect  the  first  man  who  had  offered 
him  consolation  in  his  almost  hopeless  condi- 
tion, by  speaking  words  of  sympathy,  s^iii  by. 


CG  THE   YOUNG  PAINTER. 

moreover,  offering  to  aid  liim  i:i  the  fal.11me:it 
of  his  dearest  wishes  ?  IIo  liad  no  t!ioui:-ht 
boyoiid  his  present  happiness.  Tho  "  cele- 
brated "  painter  seemed  to  liim  a  messengofs 
from  heaven,  sent  especially  to  deliver  him 
from  all  his  troubles.  Even  the  strana:3  co:i- 
ditions  imposed  upon  him  by  his  new  friend 
excit3d  no  suspicion.  They  seemed  to  him 
so  perfectly  natural,  so  precisely  what  a  master 
had  a  right  to  demand  from  his  pupil,  that 
he  accepted  them  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation. 

Gustavus  followed  his  new  master  throuo^h 
numberless  streets  and  alleys,  until  they  fnially 
reached  a  distant  quarter  of  the  city,  and 
stopped  before  a  tall,  narrow  house,  with  a 
])eaked  roof,  and  walls  blackened  by  time. 
Although  it  was  still  early  in  the  day,  the 
liousc-door  was  already  locked,  and  not  until 
after  repeated  ringing  and  knocking  was  it 
finally  opened  by  a  hideous  old  woman  in  a 
dirty  gown.  Tlie  dame  cast  an  astonished 
glance  at  the  boy. 

This  is  my  pupil !  "  said  Feldberg.  "  IIo 
is  to  live  with  us.  I  hope  you  will  like  each 
other.'* 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


C7 


5o  saying,  ho  led  Gustaviis  up  tlircc  fliglits 
of  narrow  stairs,  and,  opening  a  door  at  the 
licad  oC  the  last  flight,  entered  a  large  but 
sombre  looking  apartment. 

"  Soli  I  Now  we  are  at  home,  you  must 
make  jourself  quite  comfortable,  my  lad  !  " 

lix  accordance  with  this  invitation,  Gustavus 
laid  his  bundle  in  a  corner,  and  silently  seated 
himself,  while  his  master  walked  up  and  down 
tlie  room.  The  boy  gazed  round  his  new 
abode.  On  the  walls  hung  a  few  insignificant 
pictures ;  while  here  and  there  Avere  scattered 
some  of  the  utensils  employed  in  painting. 
Disorder  reigned  paramount,  and  not  a  trace 
was  to  be  seen  of  the  artistic  grace  which 
Gusta^'us  had  fancied  must  be  found  in  the 
studj^  of  a  great  painter.  His  delight  was 
somewhat  diminished,  and  his  heart  began  to 
bo  troubled  with  sundry  doubts  and  misgiv- 
ings. 

The  evening  passed,  however,  without  any 
fiirtlier  cause  for  anxiety.  The  scanty  re- 
mains of  the  evening  meal  were  set  before 
the  boy,  and  as  he  was  very  hungry,  he  de- 
voured the  unsavory  viands  with  considerable 
appetite. 


tJ.^  THE  YOUNG  PAINTEPw. 


Aft3r  suppor,  Foldberg  showed  Gustavus  to 
a:i  attic-room,  wlicra  a  miserable  pallet  had 
been  prepared  for  him.  When  alone,  he  made 
a  close  examination  of  his  apartment,  and  his 
comfort  "was  certainly  not  increased  hy  the 
discovery  that  the  door  of  the  chamber  was 
locked  on  the  outside. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


TI.2IPTATI0X  AND  DAXGEH. 

And  Tv'io,  tlicn,  Tvas  this  Yiv.  Fcldbcrg  ?  Ho 
was  in  fact  a  painter;  at  bast,  li3  tlius  Ltjlcd 
himself,  and  was  tlius  considered  among  his 
neiglibors.  But,  either  througli  indolence  or 
Avant  of  success,  he  had  not  actually  practised 
his  art  for  many  years,  and  had  devoted  him- 
self to  pursuits  more  in  accordance  witli  the 
restlessness  of  his  temperament,  and  proffering 
more  ample  remuneration.  Wc  cannot  spe- 
cify his  occupations,  as  tliey  were  numerous,  of 
divers  characters,  and  most  carefully  hidden 
from  the  public  vie^v.  Generally  speaking,  ho 
was  a  kind  of  universal  agent,  such  as  we  fnid 
in  most  large  cities ;  that  is,  he  was  ready  to 
engage  in  any  business  promising  profit,  great 
or  small.  He  negotiated  sales,  lent  money  at 
high  rates,  and  proffered  assistance  to  all  who 


70 


THE  YOUNG  rATNTEIi. 


had  fallcii  into  embarrassment  of  any  kinfl,— 
liis  aid,  however,  usually  causing  the  total  ruin 
of  those  who  were  unfortunate  enough  to 
seek  it. 

We  cannot  say  he  was  governed  by  any  very 
lofty  conceptions  of  duty  or  of  the  claims  of 
conscience.  His  ruling  principle  seemed  to 
be,  All  is  allowable  that  fills  the  purse.  lie 
could  wring  the  last  penny,  —  ay,  the  very 
heart's  blood  from  the  miserable  creatures  wlio 
had  fallen  into  his  power.  Were  we  to  call 
liim  a  thief  and  a  swindler,  we  should  bo 
guilty  of  no  slander ;  but  he  was  so  skilful  in 
concealing  his  misdeeds,  or  in  maskhig  them 
with  an  appearance  of  legality,  that,  although' 
he  had  on  several  occasions  been  cited  to  a]> 
pear  before  the  public  tribunals,  he  had  always 
escaped  condemnation. 

But  our  readers  may  ask,  Why  had  this 
I)lausible  scoundrel  thus  entrapped  our  friend 
Gustavus?  Of  course  he  had  not  acted  with- 
out a  sufficient  motive,  and  his  customary  cun- 
ning and  duplicity  had  guided  his  decision  in 
tliis  case,  as  in  all  others  in  which  his  interests 
were  concerned. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTEK. 


71 


ITis  speculations  froqucnlly  required  cloro 
imitations  of  various  handwritings,  for  lie  Avas 
£0  accustomed  to  fahc  dealing  of  every  ki:id, 
that  ho  did  not  hesitate  a  mome:it  at  counter- 
fjiting  a  name,  or  even  au  entire  document. 
His  own  ready  and  practised  hand  liad  liitli> 
crto  heen  all  sufficient  for  the  execution  of  hir> 
projects ;  but  that  guilty  member  had  recently 
become  unsteady,  and  he  coidd  no  longer  rely 
upon  its  tremulous  aid.  Accident  threw  Gus- 
tavus  in  his  w^ay,  and  he  at  once  recognized  in 
tlio  friendless  boy  the  tool  he  needed.  Tlie 
lad's  skill  in  drawing  and  writing,  especially  if 
developed  and  perfected  to  this  especial  end, 
W'Ould  entirely  satisfy  all  his  requisitions.  He 
ako  rejoiced  in  the  boy's  simplicity  and  utter 
want  of  experience.  Nothing  seemed  more 
easy  than  gradually  to  enclose  him  in  so  intri- 
cate a  net  tliat  escape  w^ould  be  impossible, 
and  if  he  could  bo  induced  to  commit  one  ac- 
tual misdeed,  the  w'ary  schemer  knew  tliat  his 
empire  vv'ould  be  for  ever  secured.  He  fully 
relied  upon  the  truth  of  a  saying  propounded 
by  one  of  our  most  .celebrated  authors:  Give 
the  devil  a  single  hair,  and  you  are  his  for  all 
eternity  !  '* 


72  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER.  V 

Foldborg's  plans  cxtonclod  a  long  way  into] 
Va2  futiiro,  and  covered  a  wido  field  of  action. 
II J  liad  once  counterfeited  certain  bank-bills, 
and  liad  attempted  to  circulate  the  false  paper 
through  the  city.  The  fraud,  however,  wa3 
discovered,  and  suspicion  had  fallen  upon  him; 
but  he  lied  so  stoutly,  and  it  was  found  so  im- 
possible to  prove  anything  against  him,  that  ho 
was  released  without  having  received  the  duo 
reward  of  his  misdeeds.  Since  then  he  liad 
not  dared  to  renew  tliat  branch  of  his  nefarious 
transactio:is.  But  Gustavus's  extraordinary 
ability  now  seemed  to  aiford  him  the  means  of 
returning  to  his  old  tricks  with  a  surer  pros- 
pact  of  success,  and  he  could  almost  feel  witliin 
his  covetous  grasp  the  treasures  thence  flowing 
into  liis  coffers. 

Gustavus  had  then  fallen  into  the  most  dan- 
gerous hands,  and  yet  the  poor  boy  suspected 
nothing.  He  slept  in  his  garret,  on  his  hard 
bed,  and  his  peaceful  slumbers  were  sweetened 
by  the  loveliest  and  mo^t  alluring  dreams. 
Glorious  paintings,  the  work  of  his  own  hands, 
stood  round  him  ;  a  noble  and  beautiful  lady  — 
the  same  whose  portrait  he  possessed  in  the 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


73 


locket  —  floated  toward  him  from  romo  nn- 
hnown  rogion  of  liglit  and  bliss,  and  fondlj 
jn'oiscd  him  to  lior  heart.  But  when  tlie 
morning  came  and  ho  awoko,  these  lovely 
visions  vanished,  and  nothing  remained  to  him 
but  four  bare  walls. 

His  first  thought,  however,  was  one  of  grati- 
tude that  ho  had  been  so  providentially  led  to 
CO  secure  a  shelter.  ITo  promised  himself  to 
boar  with  cheerfulness  every  privation,  if  lie 
could  only  in  the  end  attain  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  dearest  wishes. 

Ilis  master  brought  him  his  breakfast,  and 
when  the  simple  meal  was  over,  snid,  "  NoWy 
my  lad,  wo  must  go  to  work  !  As  a  learner, 
you  must  for  the  present  expect  nothing  but 
cchool  exercises.  In  the  art  of  painting  you 
will  require  the  greatest  nicety  of  touch  and 
execution.  Hence  you  must  learn  to  copy 
neatly.  Hero  are  two  sheets,  on  one  of  Avhicli 
is  traced  a  variety  of  strange  figures.  The- 
Ihies  cross  each  other  in  every  direction,  and 
seem  without  meaning  or  purpose  ;  but  you  will 
find  this  a  most  useful  exercise,  as  you  must 
copy  the  figures  so  exactly  that  no  one  could 
7 


74; 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


1]i3  copy  from  the  original.  On  the  other 
sliojt  yon  will  find  an  extract  from  a  manii- 
rcrij)t  writton  in  no  very  elegant  hand,  but  1 
asHuro  you  it  will  prove  useful,  as  in  copying  it 
l)rocisely  you  will  attain  greater  exactitude. 
Not  a  single  stroke  or  dot  must  be  omitted, 
and  you  mu^t  especially  apply  yourself  to  the 
mastering  of  the  general  character  of  the  hand- 
writing. And  now  I  hope  you  w^ill  be  diligent 
and  attentive,  tliat  when  I  return  at  noon  I 
may  have  I'cason  to  rejoice  in  your  progress." 

Fcldberg  left  the  room,  locking  the  door  be- 
hind him.  Gustavus  immediately  sat  down  to 
his  task,  which  did  not  strike  him  as  in  any 
way  peculiar.  lie  knew  that  without  exacti- 
tude it  would  be  impossible  to  succeed  in  por- 
traying a  house  or  a  tree,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
delicate  lines  of  a  human  countenance.  He 
d3t;3rmined  to  ])rogress  as  rapidly  as  practica- 
bb  in  these  elementary  studies,  that  he  might 
tlie  sooner  attain  to  the  more  attractive  por- 
tions of  his  chosen  art. 

The  boy's  nimble  fingers  soon  completed  the 
first  portion  of  his  task  to  his  own  entire  satis- 
faction, and  he  hoped,  to  that  of  his  master. 


Tin<:  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


75 


At  noon,  tlio  latter  came,  praised  some  part?, 
blamed  otlicrs,  and  incited  his  pupil  to  itill 
closer  exactitude. 

;  Day  after  day  passed  in  i\iQ  same  manner. 
Nothing  was  proposed  but  the  endless  copying 
of  utterly  senseless  figures,  gradually  becoming 
more  and  more  complicated,  or  the  imitating  cf 
an  infinite  variety  of  handwritings.  Our  Gu^ta- 
VU3  was  finally  seized  witli  an  insurmountablo 
re])ugnance  to  this  soulless,  yet  moet  wearisome 
labor.  There  vras,  liowever,  no  way  of  freeing 
himself  from  the  thraldom  of  his  master,  wlio 
continued  to  require  the  daily  practice  cf  simi- 
lar exercise:]  until  the  boy  should  have  attained 
the  requisite  exactitude. 

Gustavus  had  on  one  occasion  ventured  to 
beg  for  some  new  species  of  task,  but  a  threat- 
ening glance  from  the  master's  eye,  and  a 
hasty  oat!i  from  his  lips,  soon  silenced  the  mod- 
est petition.  Since  that  hour,  Gustavus  had 
begun  to  fear  Feldbcrg.  Ho  trembled  when 
he  heard  liis  step  upon  the  stairway,  and 
always  felt  uneasy  in  his  presence.  The  boy's 
pure  soul  began  to  divine  tlio  vicinity  of  an  un- 
holy and  wiclicd  spirit.    As  yet,  however,  Gus- 


7G  TUE  YOUXG  TAINTER. 

tavus  liad  no  very  cbar  impressions  with 
regard  to  his  actual  i)osition,  and  was  too  weak 
to  contend  vritli  liis  master.  Inwardly  sigh- 
ing, yet  endeavoring  to  do  his  best,  lie  was 
continually  forced  to  renew  his  hated  labor. 

This,  however,  Avas  not  liis  only  source  of 
suffering.  He  Avas  a  child  of  the  mountains, 
lie  had  always  been  accustomed  to  the  fresh 
air  and  freedom  of  the  country  ;  his  days  had 
been  ])assed  amid  breezy  hills,  smiling  vales, 
and  luxuriant  forests,  and  now  he  was  confined 
between  four  bare  walls,  and  constantly  forced 
to  breathe  the  same  close  and  unwholesome 
atmosphere.    What  a  melancholy  change  ! 

His  master  did  not  allow  him  a  single  mo- 
ment of  freedom.  For  many  days  he  had  not 
seen  the  blue  of  heaven  except  through  the 
dingy  panes  of  the  parlor  windows,  or  through 
the  tiny  opening  in  liis  garret  room.  He 
began  to  suffer  from  an  irrepressible  feeling  of 
liome-sickncss.  AVlicn,  in  the  early  morning, 
or  the  evening  twilight,  he  looked  forth  from 
liis  lofty  station  into  the  far  distance,  his  long- 
ing was  unutterable.  He  envied  the  swallows 
fluttering  and  twittering  iii  the  free,  pure  air 


THE  rOUXG  PAINTER. 


77 


around  liis  lonely  prison  ;  and  tlio  lot  cf  a 
cliimncy-swccp,  whom  ho  heard  s;ingi]:g  from 
the  top  of  a  ncighborhig  cliimncy,  seemed  to 
him  inexpressibly  delightful.  Far  away,  be- 
yond th3  most  distant  roofs,  he  saw  the  vrav- 
ing  tree-tops,  and  the  blue  outline  of  a  distant 
mountain  cliain.  He  longed  for  the  wings  of 
the  doves,  that  lie  might  lly  far,  far  away  ! 

0,  if  he  could  only  once  more  rci  t  in  tlic 
cool  shade  of  the  forest,  only  once  more  breatlie 
the  fresh  air  of  tlie  mountains  !  No  felicity 
seemed  to  him  comparable  to  the  fulfilment  of 
this  desire.  And  tlien,  too,  he  thought  of  all 
his  dear  ones  at  home.  He  fancied  himself 
seated  at  his  father's  feet,  fondly  gazir.g  upon 
his  smiling  and  friendly  countenar.ee,  or  sur- 
rounded by  the  lively  band  of  his  young  brotli- 
crs  and  sisters,  or  again  playing  in  the  meadow 
by  the  brook,  with  his  school  companions. 

Poor  boy !  II3  felt  he  could  not  long  en- 
dure the  pain  of  separation  from  all  that  had 
made  life  dear  to  him.  He  strove  in  vain  to 
love  a  master  who  treated  him  alternately  with 
a  soi't  of  repulsive  kindliness,  and  tiie  mo^t 
tcrriiying  harshness.    The  truth  that  ho  had 


78  THE  YOtNG  TAINTER. 

boc:i  taken  into  tlic  house  from  no  benevolent 
motive,  but  for  some  selfish,  perliaps  wicked, 
purpose,  gradually  began  to  dawn  upon  his 
mind.  Tlie  old  housekeeper,  also,  liad  never  a 
kind  word  to  bestow  on  liim,  being  always  very 
cross,  and  watching  him  oven  more  closely  than 
his  master. 

Yet,  even  in  this  melancholy  situation,  Gug- 
tavus  had  two  sources  of  consolation :  his  trust 
in  God,  and  the  dear  image  in  the  locket. 
Through  an  instinctive  caution  he  had  con- 
cealed tliis  treasure  from  his  master,  and  liad 
refrained  from  mentioning  the  mystery  en- 
shrouding his  birth.  Only  when  alone  would 
he  take  the  picture  from  his  bosom  and  gaze 
long  and  earnestly  into  the  beautiful  counte- 
nance. He  felt  quite  sure  that  it  was  indeed 
his  mother's  portrait.  All  his  words  were  now 
addressed  to  her ;  she  held  a  place  in  all  his 
thoughts  and  feelings.  The  longer  he  gazed 
upon  the  picture,  the  more  life-like  it  became 
to  him :  the  gentle  eyes  seemed  actually  filled 
with  love,  and  the  lips  almost  ready  to  speak 
words  of  consolation  and  encouragement,  —  to 
whisper  of  happy  days  yet  to  come.    The  dear 


THE  YOUXG  PAINTER. 


79 


imago  liaiiiitod  his  droams ;  under  many  as- 
pects and  amid  a  variety  of  circumstances,  bui 
always  mild  and  loving,  it  hovered  round  him; 
now  walking  with  him  through  some  charming 
landscape,  now  supporting  his  weary  head  upon 
its  bosom,  and  again,  rejoicing  with  him  over 
some  beautiful  picture  in  which  ho  had  £uc- 
coeded  to  his  heart's  content.  When  he  awoke, 
the  memory  of  these  dreams  filled  his  soul  with 
mingled  pain  and  rapture. 

Thus  passed  several  weeks.  The  boy's  po- 
sition became  more  and  more  unendurable,  for 
the  A'ague  suspicion  he  had  begun  to  entertain 
with  regard  to  Feldberg  increased  to  a  painful 
degree.  His  uneasiness  was  by  no  means  di- 
minished by  the  conversation  we  arc  about  to 
relate.  One  evening,  Feldberg  came  home  in 
an  excellent  humor  ;  he  had  probably  been  suc- 
cessful in  some  rascally  enterprise.  Callhig 
tlie  boy  to  his  side,  lie  said,  — 

"  Gustavus,  my  lad,  I  am  very  well  satisfied 
with  you.  During  the  past  few  days  you  have 
performed  your  tasks  so  well  that  1  must  soon 
declare  you  quite  perfect.  Your  copies  are  so 
excellent,  that  even  my  experienced  eye  can 
scarcely  distinguisli  them  from  the  originals." 


80 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


"  If  that  1)3  iiidoocl  so,'*  said  Gustavus,  tim 
idly,     may  I  not  hop3  that  you  will  now  gl\ 
m2  soino  othor  kind  of  exorcises  ?  " 

"  What  kind  of  exercises  do  you  want  ?  " 

^' Hoads,  landscapes,  flowers,  —  what  you 
Willi  " 

"  Do  you  then  really  wish  to  be  a  paints:'  ?  " 

Gustavus  opened  his  cyjs,  but  ventured  no 
reply  to  t:iis  question. 

"  0  yes,  I  know  you  hive  a  fancy  that  way. 
You  tliink  you  have  boon  gifted  witli  a  mar- 
vellous talent  for  painting.  But  what  if  I  were 
to  tell  you  tliat  you  have  no  talent  at  all  ?  " 

"  That  would  indeed  be  horrible !  "  stani- 
mored  Gustavus. 

No,  not  the  faintest,  I  am  quite  cure.  You 
have  no  fancy,  no  invention.  You  can  never 
be  more  than  a  mere  copyist." 

The  boy's  eyes  filled  with  toars. 
Come,  don't  cry,  my  lad  I  I  will  trust  you 
witli  a  secret.  Your  extraordinary  skill  in 
copying  is  wortli  a  great  deal  more  to  you  than 
the  loftiest  talent  with  which  you  could  have 
been  endowed." 

Gustavus  gazed  speechless  into  his  master's 
face. 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


81 


Do  you  not  know  that  many  a  Trriting  is 
wortli  moro  tlun  a  tliousand  dollars ;  and  v.  lio 
no\v-a-days  will  pay  a  tliousand  dollars  for  a 
picture  ? 

"  How  can  that  bo  possible  ?  "  replied  Gus- 
tarus,  blushing  deeply. 

It  is  true,  you  little  simpleton,  although 
you  cannot  as  yet  comprehend  it.  But  you 
will  learn  in  time.  If  you  arc  industrious, 
obedient,  and  secret,  I  will  one  day  teach  you 
how  to  become  a  very  rich  man." 

Giistavus  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  cried, — 
0,  my  good  master,  I  do  not  care  to  learn 
that !  I  had  hoped  you  would  teach  me  paint- 
ing ;  but  as  you  say  I  have  no  talent,  I  suppose 
I  never  could  become  an  artist,  and  conse- 
quently am  of  no  use  hero.  Let  me  go  away, 
1  beseech  you  !  " 

"  You  fool !  "  said  Fcldbcrg ;  "  that  is  quite 
impossible.  Do  you  think  that  I  have  taught 
and  fed  you  during  four  weeks  all  for  noth- 
ing?" 

The  boy  fell  at  the  man's  feet  and  embraced 
his  knees. 

"  Let  mo  go,  I  beseech  you,  for  God's  sake  1 


82 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


I  am  good  for  notliing,  —  nothing  at  all ! 
All !  iiideod  I  must  leave  tliis  place  ! " 

"  Silence  !  "  thundered  Feldberg  ;  3'ou  will 
Etaj  lierc,  —  you  must  stay  here!  Do  you 
licar?" 

Those  words  were  rpoken  in  so  fearful  a  tone, 
a:id  accompanied  by  so  fierce  a  glance,  tliat 
Gustavus  shrank  back  in  terror.  Almost  me- 
charncally  did  he  obey  the  command  to  betake 
himself  to  his  own  chamber. 

V/hen  alone,  he  found  his  mind  in  a  terribb 
ctate  of  confusion.  Strange  tliouglits  and  feel- 
i'ligs  llitted  athwart  liis  brain,  but  he  strove  in 
vain  to  reduce  them  to  order.  By  degrees  ho 
boeame  calmer.  Although  utterly  inexperi- 
enced in  tiie  Avays  of  t!ie  worLl,  lie  possessed  a 
clear  intellect,  and  an  uprigh.t  judgment.  Tlio 
preceding  conversation  had  thrown  a  fjarful 
ligh.t  upon  his  present  situation.  No,  though.t 
lie,  this  man  is  no  painter!  But  wliat  is  he? 
Yf  hy  has  he  lured  me  hitlier  ?  Vf  hai  does  lie 
warit  with  mo  ?  Wherefore  tliis  eternal  copy- 
i:ia:  of  senseless  fia:ures  and  handwritiiifrs  ? 

An  almost  forgotten  memory  flashed  across 
his  mind.    Ills  teacher  had  once  told  him  that 


THE  YOUNG   FA  INTER. 


83 


thcro  wcro  persons  Avlio  maclo  a  busincrs  of 
falsifying  and  counterfeiting  notes  and  docu- 
ments. Vriiat  if  Fcklberg  Avcrc  sucli  a  man  ? 
Horrible  !  And  what  if  be  intended  to  em- 
ploy him  as  a  tool !  At  this  thought  his  blood 
stiffened  in  his  veins ;  ho  Avas  stricken  in  Ins 
most  sensitive  point !  A  profound  sense  of 
right,  and  an  incorruptible  feeling  of  honor, 
-were  among  his  most  prominent  character- 
istics. 

AVheroforo,  thought  he,  this  confinement, 
this  careful  locking  of  my  door,  and  this  anx- 
iety lest  I  should  hold  any  communication  with 
my  fellow-beings  ?  Is  he  afraid  I  will  betray 
him  before  he  has  made  sure  of  me  ?  Where- 
fore these  secret  visits,  at  which  I  am  never 
permitted  to  be  present,  —  this  dark  and  mys- 
terious mode  of  life, —  this  anxiety  to  avoid  all 
observation  ?  Tlio  more  Gustavus  reflected, 
the  more  sure  he  became  that  he  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  a  villain. 

He  tiH'ew  himself  upon  his  knees  and 
prayed  :  0  my  God  !  save  me  from  the  snares 
of  the  wicked.  Let  me  die,  if  it  be  Thy  Avill, 
but  keep  my  heart  and  my  hand  from  evil!  " 


THE  TOUXG  TAINTER. 

It  T^as  very  lato  that  night  ^y]\c:\  ho  sank 
i:itD  an  uneasy  deep,  disturbed  by  fearful 
dreams. 

The  following  day,  wlien  Fcldbcrg  called 
Gustavus  to  leave  his  chamber  and  come  down 
to  him,  the  wily  master  was  apparently  more 
friendly  than  ever. 

"  My  lad,"  said  he,  "  you  acted  yesterday 
like  a  little  fool,  and  you  must  have  seen  that 
you  cannot  trifle  with  me.  1  hope  you  have 
learned  a  good  lesson  for  the  future.  Our  in- 
terests are  now  closely  entwined,  and  the  bet- 
ter friends  we  arc,  tlic  more  advantageous  for 
3'ou.  I  liave  an  exercise  for  you  with  which 
you  cannot  fail  to  be  pleased.  Here  is  a  neat 
little  picture  on  which  are  stamped  the  Prus- 
sian eagle  and  the  Prussian  arms,  vnth  sundry 
other  pretty  figures.  All  these  must  be  copied  ; 
but  mind  you,  exactly,  so  that  no  one  could 
t  jll  the  copy  from  the  original.  Do  you  hear  ? 
If  you  succeed  to  my  satisfaction,  you  may 
rely  upon  a  large  reward." 

When  Fcldbcrg  had  left  the  house,  —  for  he 
was  always  absent  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  day,  —  Gustavus  examined  the  paper  which 


THE  TOUNCr  PAINTER. 


85 


Iiad  been  placed  before  liim.    It  was  a  Prue:- 
sian  treasury  note.    He  remembered  leaving 
;     Eceii  £:imilar  papers  i:i  his  father's  liauds,  but 
I     ho  liad  tlicii  paid  no  regard  to  their  meaning. 
Now  when  among  otlier  words  he  found  these 
two,  —  "  Five  Dollars,"  —  he  began  to  suspect 
that  this  note  might  be  employed  to  represent 
an  equivalent  in  money.    And  b.c  was  expected 
to  copy  that !    To  what  end  ?    While,  witli  a 
j     bcathig  heart,  he  was  anxiously  considering 
i     tlie  matter,  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  line  cf  fmo 
writing  running  around  the  rim  cf  the  note, 
lie  read  as  follows  :  — 

"  According  to  the  law  cf  the  land,  vrhocvei^ 
counterfeits,  or  causes  to  be  counterfeited,  treas- 
j  ury  notes,  whoever  circulates  said  counter- 
feits, or  aids  and  abets  their  circulation,  in- 
curs the  penalty  of  a  fine  equal  to  tenfold  tlio 
value  of  the  counterfeited  note  or  notes,  to- 
gether Avith  severe  corporeal  punishment  and 
imprisonment,  the  term  of  which  imprison- 
ment may  be  extended  to  the  duration  of  the 
I     natural  life,  with  hard  labor." 

We  cannot  describe  the  horror  witli  which 
Gustavus  read  these  words.    All  was  now  pcr^ 
8 


8G 


TnE  YOUXG  PAINTER. 


fDcllj  clear  !  And  ttqs  lio  then  to  become  a 
counterfeiter,  —  a  criminal  ?  To  load  his  con- 
ccience  "witli  a  heavy  weight  of  guilt,  and  to  ren- 
der himself  liable  to  the  severest  punishments 
of  the  law  ?  He  trembled  from  head  to  foot, 
as  if  lie  had  already  committed  the  evil  deed. 
His  firsit  thought  was  flight ;  but  he  found  ail 
the  doors,  as  usual,  lock  3d. 

"  I  must  escape,"  cried  he  ;  ^'  I  must  fly  from 
this  den  of  wickedness,  even  if  I  am  forced  to 
leap  f.'om  the  windows  !  " 

He  sank  down  in  one  corner  and  wept  bit- 
terly. 

"  Ah,  my  father!  "  dghed  he,  if  you  only 
knew  t!ie  fjarful  abyss  which  yawns  before  me, 
you  would  fly  to  t-ie  aid  of  your  own  Gus- 
tavus  ! " 

Tlie  paper,  still  lying  on  the  table,  inspired 
him  wit'n  indescribable  horror.  "  No,  not  one 
stroke  will  I  make ;  I  will  have  my  hand  cut 
off  before  I  use  it  for  any  wicked  purpose ! " 
lie  sprang  to  liis  feet.  "  Wiiat  riglit  lias  this 
man  to  plunge  me  into  teniporal  and  eternal 
ruin  ?  lie  may  beat  me,  he  may  lock  me  up, 
but  he  shall  not  stain  my  soul.    For  the  pre- 


THE  YOUNG  PATNTER. 


£7 


ccrvation  cf  its  purity,  I  am  accountablo  both 
to  myself  and  to  my  God  !  " 

Thus,  amid  conflicting  foclings,  fluctuating 
bctwoon  hopeless  despair  and  courageous  res- 
olution, Gustavus  passed  tlie  long  hours  of 
that  fearful  morning.  At  noon,  Fcldbcrg  re- 
turned. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  cried  he,  ^- have  you  been 
diligent  ?  How  much  liave  you  done  ?  What 
docs  this  mean  ?  "  continued  he,  his  eye  falling 
upon  tlie  blank  dicet  still  lying  vrhere  he  had 
left  it.    "  Have  3-011  done  nothing  ?  " 

"  I  have  done  nothing,"  replied  Gustavus,  in 
a  resolute,  although  somewhat  tremulous  tone. 

"  And  why  not,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

^'  I  read  upon  that  paper  that  whoever  copies 
it  is  a  criminal  and  liable  to  severe  punish- 
ment." 

Fcldbcrg  laughed  aloud.  "Is  that  all?  You 
little  fool !  Who  says  that  tliis  copy  is  to  bo 
circulated  ?  It  is  only  intended  as  an  exercise 
for  you." 

"  I  shudder  at  the  very  idea  of  such  exer- 
cises." 

"  Then  you  will  not  copy  iho  paper  . 


83  THE  YOUNG  PAOTER. 

No,  not  that  one." 
Fjldborg's  face  assumed  a  fearful  expression  •, 
his  liaiids  quivered  convulsively ;  lie  fastened 
Jiis  eye  on  Gustavus,  like  a  serpent  on  the  poor 
bird  destined  to  be  its  next  victim.  The  boy's 
courage,  however,  rose  with  the  actual  prcsenc3 
of  danger. 

^Master,"  said  he,  "  you  brought  mo  here 
under  a  promise  to  teach  me  painting,  but  I 
see  that  if  I  remain  with  you  1  shall  never  be- 
come a  painter.  You  liad  better,  then,  suffer 
me  to  depart." 

"  And  wliat  do  you  tliink  you  will  become 
if  you  remain  witli  me  ?  "  asked  Fcldbcrg,  his 
voice  trembling  witli  rage. 

"  I  must  say  it !  "  cried  Gustavus.  "  I  have 
no  earthly  possession  except  a  guiltless  con- 
science, —  shall  I  lose  that,  and  become  a  cheat 
and  a  counterfeiter  ?  " 

Tlio  outburst  of  rage  which  followed  thia 
speech  was  indeed  terrific  ;  Feldberg  seized  tho 
l)oy,  flung  him  to  the  ground,  and  seemed 
about  to  strangle  him. 

But  no,"  he  suddenly  cried,  "  wo  liavo 
other  means  of  subduing  you.  OIT  with  you, 
to  your  room  I  " 


THE  TOUXG  TAINTEU. 


80 


IIo  half  dragged  tlio  boy  up  t!i3  steep  ctairs, 
and  pushing  him  into  his  room,  locked  the  doer 
on  the  outside. 

The  day  passed,  and  no  dinner  came.  I3  it 
hunger  that  is  to  subdue  me  ?  thought  Gusta- 
Tus.  A  cold  shudder  ran  through  all  liis 
veins. 

lie  felt  he  must  escape.  The  idea  of  fligh.t 
^;ecame  more  and  more  fixed  in  his  mind.  His 
life,  and  more,  his  eternal  salvation,  "were  at 
ctake.  But  how  ?  —  He  looked  fortli  from  his 
little  window ;  a  giddy  depth  lay  below,  and 
the  neighboring  roofs  were  too  distant  to  afford 
him  any  aid. 

The  only  possible  mode  of  escape  "was  by  tlie 
stairway,  but  then  the  door  :vas  locked.  Long 
and  vainly  did  he  ponder  ;  no  Avay  of  forcing  it 
open  presented  itself  to  his  mind,  until  sudden- 
ly his  eye  clianccd  to  fall  upon  a  large  nail, 
only  partially  driven  ijito  the  Avail.  His  heart 
baped  Avith  joy !  His  efforts  to  Avithdraw  it 
proved  successful.  IIoav  if  ho  Avcre  to  bend 
t!ic  point  and  use  its  as  a  key  ?  The  lock 
seemed  a  A'cry  simple  one,  —  or  perhaps  he 
might  use  it  as  a  pry  to  force  back  the  bolt. 

8* 


00 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTEn. 


ITo  made  an  attempt,  tho  bolt  l)ogan  to  move, 
and  li3  now  folt  quite  sure  that  lie  could  open 
tlie  door.  But  lie  must  wait  until  after  night- 
fall, for  tiie  housekeeper,  who  was  always  to  be 
fjund  in  tlie  kitchen,  watched  the  steps  with 
argus  eyes.  And  when  fairly  down  stairs, 
how  was  he  to  get  through  the  hall  door  ?  IIo 
determined  to  hide  in  the  lower  story  until  the 
morning,  when  the  door  would  be  opened,  and 
then  dip  out.  After  much  deliberation,  Gus- 
tavus  finally  decided  upon  adopting  this  plan. 

The  evening  passed,  and  no  supper.  I  am 
right,  he  intends  to  ruin  me !  thought  Gusta- 
vns.  Tlie  c.Tort  must  be  made,  and  midniglit 
seemed  to  him  tlie  best  time  for  beginning  his 
operations. 

Our  3'oung  readers  may  imagine  how  endless 
the  intermediate  hours  of  anxious  delay  seemed 
to  the  poor  boy. 


CITAPTER  YI. 


FLIGHT  AND  DELIVERANCE. 

The  bells  from  the  towers  annomiccd  tbo 
liuur  of  midiiiglit.  Now  is  the  time,  thought 
Gustavus.  lie  packed  liis  little  wallet,  tied 
up  liis  portfolio,  and  then  recommended  him- 
self to  the  protection  of  his  Heavenly  Father. 
This  done,  he  went  to  the  door  and  listened  ; 
all  was  silent  as  tlie  grave.  He  softly  inserted 
tlio  nail  into  the  open  crack,  —  his  forehead 
was  covered  with  a  cold  sweat,  —  the  bolt  p,"avc 
way,  and  the  door  was  unfastened.  Unspeak- 
abb  was  tlie  delight  thrilling  every  member  of 
liis  youthful  frame. 

He  crossed  the  threshold  and  carefully  rc- 
bolted  t;ie  door.  Scarcely  daring  to  breathe, 
ho  fjlt  his  Avay  on  tip-too  down  stairs.  Tlio 
most  })rofound  jjilencc  and  impenetrable  dark- 


92 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


ncFS  pervaded  tlio  lionso.  The  beating  of  l:is 
ovs'ii  lieart  vras  Hie  only  round  lie  heard.  IT3 
s:to;)ped  a  moment  on  t!ie  landing  oiit'.id3  of 
Feldherg's  door  ;  from  the  back  room  Avhere 
tlio  housekeeper  ilcpt  proceeded  a  tcrribb 
cnoring,  Avhich  made  him  feel  quite  secure  ns 
far  as  she  was  concerned.  lie  then  descended 
the  two  remainuig  flights  at  a  somewhat  more 
rapid  pace. 

Scarcely  had  lie  reached  the  ground  floor, 
vrhen  he  was  startled  by  a  sudden  noise.  A 
key  Avas  placed  from  without  in  the  lock  of  th3 
liouse-door.  Gustavus  shivered,  and  barely 
retained  presence  of  mhid  sufficient  to  hi  do 
behind  some  barrels  under  the  stairway.  Hor- 
ror stricken,  he  recognized  his  master's  voice. 
Fcldborg  entered,  accompanied  by  another 
man ;  but  the  boy's  delight  may  be  imagined 
when  he  heard  that  dreaded  voice  say,  "  1  will 
leave  the  door  unlocked,  as  you  will  not  have 
long  to  stay  ;  our  business  will  soon  be  fin- 
ished." Gustavus  waited  until  the  last  echo 
of  tlie  retreating  footsteps  had  died  away, 
"when,  emerging  from  his  hiding-iilace,  he 
flung  open  the  heavy  door  and  rushed  out  into 
the  street. 


THE   YOUNG  rAIXTER. 


93 


No  liuman  po:i  could  doscribo  his  foclhigs. 
No  sliipwrccked  mariner,  whom  tho  mercy  cf 
God  liad  ju^t  snatched  from  all  the  liorrors  cf 
a  Avatcry  grave,  could  feel  more  grateful  or 
enraptured  tlian  did  our  Gustavus,  when  lio 
liad  fairly  left  his  tormentor's  den  behind  him. 
IIo  seemed  like  one  intoxicated  with  delight. 
The  street  lamps  shed  but  a  glimmering  light, 
but  the  stars  of  heaven  shone  above  his  head  ; 
and  he  enjoyed  to  the  full  extent  the  privilege 
cf  choosing  his  own  way  and  directing  Ids  own 
footsteps.  lie  felt  as  if  just  awakened  from 
co'uc  long  and  fearful  dream,  as  if  suddenly 
restored  from  some  shadowy  land  of  phantoms 
to  the  living  and  breathing  realities  of  life. 
He  walked  for  hours  without  a  thoudit  of 
fatigue,  and  finally  reached  the  outskirts  of  tho 
city,  where  t!ie  fresh  country  air  blowing  upou 
his  face  rendered  liim  doubly  happy.  The  vast 
city  sleeping  at  his  feet  failed  to  excite  a  single 
emotion  of  apprehension ;  ho  was  scarcely 
aware  of  its  existence.  lie  felt  himself  alone 
with  liis  God,  and  his  soul  poured  itself  forth 
i:i  the  m.ost  fervent  and  joyful  tlianksgiving. 

The  intensity  of  his  delight,  however,  began 


94 


THE   YOUNG  PAINTER. 


to  abato,  ^\'hcn,  with  tlio  dawn,  came  a  shivering 
fjoling  of  cold  and  a  gnawing  sensation  of  hmi- 
gor,  for  it  had  been  nearly  four-and-twentj 
hours  since  the  poor  boy  had  tasted  a  moiith- 
fnl.  These  physical  requirements  recalled  hirn 
to  a  sense  of  his  desolate  and  friendless  con- 
dition. Human  life  began  to  stir  abroad. 
The  country  people  commenced  driving  their 
well-laden  carts  and  wagons  into  the  populous 
town,  and  Gustavus  soon  found  himself  sur- 
rounded by  all  the  bustle  of  the  approaching 
market  hour.  With  a  penny  or  so  still  remain- 
ing  from  his  littlo  store,  he  satisfied  his  hunger 
at  a  baker's,  and  then  began  to  consider  what 
he  liad  better  do  next. 

His  first  thought  was  to  return  to  his  father. 
"But  no,"  said  he  to  himself;  "I  asked  my 
father  for  a  year's  trial,  and  it  would  be  cow- 
ardly to  abandon  all  my  hopes  and  projects 
before  six  weeks  had  fairly  passed." 

II is  self-esteem  and  self-reliance,  together 
with  an  unconquerable  love  for  his  chosen  art, 
• — a  love  which  not  even  the  misery  of  his  last 
experience  could  extinguish,  —  revived.  Ah! 
thought  he,  if  I  oidy  knew  some  one  who  could 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


95 


adviso  1113,  and  show  mo  some  way  of  relieving 
myself  from  my  present  state  of  doubt  and  em- 
barrassment ! 

Ilis  thoughts  suddenly  fell  upon  the  kind 
pastor  of  the  village  church.  lie  felt  that, 
could  he  only  see  him,  he  would  receive  botli 
counsel  and  substantial  aid.  This  idea  at  once 
gave  rise  to  another. 

"  How?"  he  cried,  are  there  not  plenty  of 
clergymen  in  this  great  city,  and  would  any 
one  of  them  repulse  me  after  learning  all  my 
troubles  and  misfortunes  ?  xVre  they  not  all 
servants  of  Him  who  called  the  burdened  and 
heavy-laden  to  himself?  How  could  tliey  fail 
to  pity  a  poor  lad  who  asks  nothing  from  them 
but  a  little  consolation,  and.  some  good  counsel 
to  guide  his  steps  amid  the  labyrinth  of  life." 

Encouraged  by  this  consideration,  he  went 
toward  one  of  the  large  churches,  and  was 
delighted  at  finding  a  house  near  by,  the  door- 
plate  of  which  announced  the  residence  of  a 
clergyman.  He  rang,  was  admitted,  and.  soon 
stood  before  a  venerable  man  Avho  in  the  kind- 
est maimer  asked  him  what  he  wanted.  Gus- 
tavus,  at  first  somewhat  timidly,  but  gradually 


i)6 


THE   TOUNG  PAINTER. 


gaining  confidcnco  as  I13  procoodcd,  related  liis 
'.vliob  story  ;  who  he  was  and  whence  lie  came, 
wliat  luid  brought  him  to  the  capital,  and  all 
tliat  had  happened  to  liim  since  his  arrival. 

The  pastor  listened  attentively.  He  was 
pleased  witli  tlie  truthful  expression  of  the 
boy's  handsome  countenance,  a!id  felt  fully 
inclined  to  believe  a  tale  so  unreservedly,  yet 
modestly  related.  Ho  placed  confidence  in  the 
poor  boy,  whose  helpless  and  forlorn  condition 
could  not  fail  to  excite  a  good  man's  compas- 
sion. 

"  My  son,"  said  he,  3^our  simplicity  and  in- 
experience have  led  you  into  a  most  dangerous 
situation.  Thank  God,  wlio  has  preserved 
you  !  You  ask  me  what  you  liad  better  do 
now.  Of  that  we  will  speak  hereafter.  But 
we  have  first  a  most  necessary  work  to  accom- 
plish. From  all  you  have  told  me,  this  paint- 
er, Feldborg,  must  be  a  great  villain,  and 
wlio  can  tell  how  many  of  his  evil  deeds  may 
still  be  larking  'neath  the  veil  of  secrecy?  It 
is  now  our  duty  to  inform  the  city  authorities 
of  all  we  know." 

Gustavus  started  !    lie  had  not  thought  of 


THE  TOUXG  rAIXTEK* 


97 


thlr..  Tlio  icloa  of  standing  bcforo  tlio  magis- 
tracy, "whom  ho  had  always  fancied  surrounded 
by  the  most  awe-inspiring  attributes  of  power 
and  majesty,  made  liim  tremble  from  head  to 
fjot. 

Do  not  fear,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  pastor ; 

if  you  are  innocent,  you  have  no  reason  to  bo 
afraid.  The  magistracy  does  not  indeed  bear 
the  sword  in  vain,  but  is  only  to  bo  feared  by 
the  guilty.  Who  knows  if  God  may  not  have 
Ciioscn  you  as  the  instrument  of  delivering  the 
community  from  one  of  its  most  dangerous 
members  ?  " 

The  clergyman  went  with  Gustavus  to  one 
of  the  chiefs  of  the  police  whom  he  knew  very 
well.  Tlie  mention  of  Feldbcrg's  name,  at  the 
commencement  of  his  narration,  at  onco 
roused  the  attention  of  the  police  officer,  wdio 
exclaimed, — 

"  Feldberg  ?  The  painter  Feldberg  ?  That 
indeed  interests  mo  !  We  have  long  suspected 
that  man,  and  have  only  been  waiting  for  some 
certain  proof  to  punish  him  as  he  deserves. 
Pray,  continue  !  " 

The  clergyman  related  all  that  lie  had  liQarcl 

9 


98 


THE  YOUNG  FAINTER. 


from  Gustavus.  The  officer  tlien  asked  tlie 
boy  many  questions,  Avhicli  lie  answered  without' 
hesitation,  and  apparently  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  official,  who  at  the  close  of  the  examina- 
tion said,  — 

"  I  thank  you,  reverend  sir,  that  you  have 
not  shunned  interfering  in  this  unpleasant 
affair.  You  have  rendered  an  invaluable  ser- 
vice to  all  whom  this  villain's  schemes  might 
have  plunged  into  ruin.  The  boy's  deposition 
is  quite  sufficiejit  to  justify  an  immediate 
arrest.  I  must  also  detain  the  boy.  1  hope 
indeed  that  he  is  innocent ;  but  until  that  is 
proved  beyond  a  doubt,  I  cannot  permit  him  to 
depart;  the  more,  as  it  is  necessary  he  should 
a[)poar  as  a  witness  against  the  accused." 

Gustavus  was  thunder-stricken.  Again  in 
captivity  !  His  face  was  pale  as  death,  and  all 
his  limbs  trembled. 

"  Mercy  !  pity  !  "  cried  he,  wringing  his 
hands.  "  I  am  innocent !  xVs  true  as  there 
is  a  God  in  heaven,  I  have  done  nothing 
vrrong  !  " 

The  clergyman,  who  sincerely  sympathized 
with  the  boy's  distress,  said  a  few  kind  words 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


99 


ill  liis  behalf;  ])ut  lio  was  soon  convinced  that 
tlie  ofiicer  couhl  not  for  tlie  present  spare  him. 
Both  then  strove  witli  gentle  Avords  to  reassure 
the  trembling  child,  and  succeeded  so  well  that 
Gustavus  with  tolerable  composure  followed 
the  policeman  (who  had  meanwhile  been 
called)  into  a  very  comfortable  and  by  no 
means  terrifying  place  of  detention. 

We  will  now  return  to  the  gloomy  liouso 
from  which  Gustavus  had  so  happily  escaped. 
Fcldberg,  little  dreaming  that  his  prisoner  stood 
trembling  within  three  paces  of  him,  went  up 
stairs  with  his  companion.  A  short  conversa- 
tion then  ensued,  which,  judging  from  the 
whispered  tones  in  which  it  was  held,  certainly 
related  to  some  villanous  transaction.  Soon 
after,  the  stranger  departed.  Feldberg  then 
locked  and  bolted  the  doors.  As  he  again 
ascended  the  staircase,  he  thought  of  listening 
a  moment  at  the  boy's  door.  All  was  quiet. 
The  lad  must  sleep  well,  thought  he.  Hunger 
has  not  yet  done  its  work  ! 

As  he  found  the  door  locked,  ho  calmly  re- 
turned to  his  own  chamber.  In  the  mornino- 
ho  listened  again.    Again  all  was  quiet.  This 


100 


Tlir:  YOUNG  TAINTEn, 


rocmod  i:icoiiiproho:isil)b,  and  I13  cofdj  oponod 
iA2  door  ;  llio  room  was  cmptv.  Our  .you:ig 
readora  may  imngino  Foldborg's  rpGOchlcs;g 
astoiiislimcnt.  His  first  lliouglit  was,  that 
Gustavus  in  despair  liad  flung  liiuisolf  from  l!io 
Yv'indow ;  and,  liardoncd  as  lie  was,  a  cold  chud- 
dor  ran  through  all  his  limbs.  IIo  vrcnt  to  the 
window  and  looked  out ;  no  boy  was  to  bo 
ceen.  People  were  already  stirring  in  tho 
court  below  ;  at  least,  had  the  boy's  mangled 
body  been  found  upon  the  pavement,  tlie  alarm 
Avould  cro  now  have  been  given.  He  must 
then  have  escaped  througli  the  door,  but  hovr  ? 
Truly  a  difficult  question,  and  one  which  Fcld- 
berg  had  not  now  time  to  solve.  Gustavus's 
fliglit  filled  the  false  master's  mind  with  min- 
gled fear  and  rage.  The  lad  had  looked  too 
deeply  into  his  guilty  secrets,  and  must,  if  po> 
dble,  be  at  once  recaptured. 

In  wild  haste,  he  ran  down  stairs,  threw 
open  tho  house-door,  and  hurried  through  a 
multitude  of  streets  and  squares  in  vain ;  for 
nowhere  amid  the  crowd  could  he  discover  the 
missing  boy.  Towards  midday  lie  returned 
liomc,  angry  and  tired,  and  heartily  cursing 
oiir  poor  Gustavus. 


THE  YOUNG  rAIXTER. 


101 


But  \il\o  can  cl^rcriba  liis  liorror  vrhci  l:o 
fyund  liis  dwelling  in  l!i3  hands  cf  V.\2  i:ol:c3, 
and  himself  under  arrcLt  ?  Tlioy  liad  rcarclied 
the  premises,  and  taken  possession  of  Iiis  i)apcr3 
and  all  other  suspicious  articles.  He  made 
several  fruitless  attempts,  to  escape  tlie  nirvc'.l- 
Lmce  cf  the  balifrs.  His  liour  had  come,  and 
tlie  strong  arm  cf  tlie  law  vras  fmall/  upcn 
him.  Gnashing  his  teetli  and  utterii:g  lioiTi- 
Ijb  curses,  he,  together  Avitli  t!io  old  house- 
keeper, vvas  fjrced  to  follow  tlie  policemen, 
who  placed  them  both  in  close  coufujcment. 

It  is  not  our  intention  hero  to  follow  the 
course  of  t!ie  ensuing  trial ;  suffice  it  to  say, 
that,  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  days,  Gustavus's 
innocence  was  fully  proved,  and  ho  himself 
released  from  durance.  But  numerous  com- 
plaints from  otiier  quarters,  supported  by  un- 
exceptionable testimony,  were  i)refcrred  agair.st 
Feldberg,  and  all  his  cunning,  aided  by  the 
most  unblushing  falsehood  and  perjury,  failed 
to  save  him.  Not  only  was  he  proved  guilty 
of  fraud  and  extortion,  but  also  of  counterfeit- 
ing documents  and  circulating  counterfeit 
money  of  his  own  manufacture.    5Ic  was  scii- 

9* 


102  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


I 


tonccd  to  imprisonment  with  hard  labor  for  a 
long  term  of  years.  Thus  do  tho  wicked  fall 
into  tlicir  own  snares  !  A  poor,  ignorant  boy, 
Avlioni  with  hellish  art  he  had  entrapped  to  aid 
him  in  his  reckless  schemes,  was  chosen  as  tlio 
instrument  through  which  he  was  to  fall  under 
t\\Q  strong  arm  of  the  law,  and  society  to  bo 
finally  delivered  from  one  of  the  most  danger- 
ous enemies  to  its  order  and  security. 

During  tho  same  day  on  which  Gustavus 
was  liberated  from  captivity,  the  police  officer 
to  whom  he  had  been  first  brought  sent  for 
him.  The  boy's  honesty  and  true-heartedne?s 
had  quite  won  the  officer's  confidence,  and  ho 
felt  very  desirous  to  see  him  settled  in  sonio 
safe  place,  where  he  could  learn  some  useful 
occupation. 

My  son,"  said  he,  "I  am  glad  that  you 
have  got  through  this  ugly  business  with  so 
safe  a  skin.  I  was  really  afraid  that  your  four 
weeks'  tuition  under  Feldberg  might  have  dono 
you  more  harm." 

"  I  was  not  afraid  of  that,"  replied  Gustavus, 

for  I  knew  my  own  innocence." 

"  You  are  indeed  innocent.    Yes,  more  than 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


103 


innocent.  You  aro  an  iipriglit  and  an  honest 
lad,  and  you  have  behaved  very  sensibly 
throughout  this  whole  affair.  But,  how  if 
you  had  not  been  able  to  make  your  escape  ? 
All  then  might  have  ended  very  differently." 

"  In  that  case,  I  should  have  died." 

"  What,  you  would  really  have  had  the 
courage  to  die  rather  than  commit  a  crime  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  for  I  promised  my  father  before  I 
bft  him  to  bo  guilty  of  no  wrong.  That  was 
tlio  only  condition  under  which  he  would  suf- 
fer mo  to  depart." 

"  Well,  it  is  best  as  it  is.  Listen,  dear  lad  ; 
I  have  something  very  pleasant  to  tell  you.  I 
know  that  your  purse  is  not  very  full." 

"Alas!"  sighed  Gustavus,  "I  have  not  a 
single  penny  loft." 

"  Fortunately,  I  can  help  you.  You  have 
rendered  a  greater  service  than  you  yourself 
are  perhaps  aware  of.  Your  information  has 
given  us  the  clew  to  a  number  of  criminal  mys- 
torios  Avliich  had  long  baffled  our  penetration. 
Among  the  rest,  the  discovery  of  the  counter- 
feiter of  our  treasury  notes  is  no  slight  service 
to  the  state.     Some  time  ago,  a  reward  was 


104  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER, 

promised  to  tli3  discoverer,  and  you  liava 
earned  it." 

So  saying,  the  police  officer  took  a  roil  of 
money  from  liis  pocket  and  offered  it  to  Gus- 
tavus.  But  the  boy  hesitated,  drew  back,  and 
blushed  scarlet. 

"  Well,  take  it,  my  child !  Only  think,  it 
contains  fifty  good  dollars." 

"Fifty  dollars!  And  are  they  all  indeed 
mine  ?  " 

Gustavus  had  never  before  even  dreamed  of 
sucli  wcaltli.  All  his  blood  rushed  to  his 
heart.  He  stretched  fortli  his  hand,  but  it 
was  again  quickly  Avithdrawn. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  cried  the  boy,  "  tell  me  only 
wlietlier  in  this  affair  I  have  done  my  duty,  — 
what  I  ought  to  have  done  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  you  have  done  your  duty,  —  ail 
that  you  ought  to  have  done." 

"Well,  then,  I  cannot  take  the  money!" 
cried  Gustavus,  now  almost  weeping. 

"  But,  why  not  ?  "  asked  the  officer,  greatly 
astonished. 

"  Our  master  told  us  that  when  wo  had  dono 
our  duty,  only  what  wc  were  bound  to  do,  wo 
should  never  take  pay  for  it." 


THE   YOUNG  TAINTEK. 


105 


"  TjJ  lioavon  !  you  nr3  indeed  a  rtranp:o  hey ! 
Anio::g  all  the  lads  i:i  our  city,  Lxu'ely  i:ot 
inore  than  one  in  a  thousand  could  be  found 
i   as  conscientious  as  you  are  !  " 
j      Thus  saying,  the  officer,  in  the  l:indlicct 
i    manner,  laid  liis  hand  upon  the  boy's  head 
and  continued:  "  My  child,  I  lionor  your  con- 
ccientiousncss.    Mo^t  certainly,  one  should  not 
receive  payment  for  a  mere  fulhlmo:it  of  duty. 
But  could  you  not  take  the  fifty  dollars  ao  a 

gift  ? " 

Gustavus's  eyes  brightened. 

"  As  a  gift  from  your  king  ?  Tlie  l:ing  loves 
to  have  upright  people  in  his  dominions.  You 
will  not  be  too  proud  to  receive  a  gift  from 
him?  " 

0  no  !  it  is  allowable  to  receive  gifts  !  " 
Gustavus  took  the  money,  and  his  vrliclo 
countenance  shone  as  with  a  new-found  de- 
light. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  your  money  ? " 
asked  the  police  officer. 

The  boy  was  £:ile::t.  lie  was  evidently 
weighing  some  important  purpose  ;  lie  blii^h.od, 
and  fmally  asked  in  low  and  rapid  tones, 


106  THE   YOUNG  PAINTER. 

\\'lictlior  lio  could  not  with  his  fifty  dollars  be' 
como  a  painter  ? 

T!iG  ofliccr  lauglicd  heartily. 

"  Still  at  your  old  notions  !  Tell  me,  then, 
do  you  really  desire  to  become  a  painter  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  desire  it  with  all  my  heart !  " 
This  is  Avondcrful !  I  thought  your  bitter 
experiences  would  have  rendered  your  rosi> 
dence  in  the  city  so  disagreeable  that  you 
woidd  lose  no  time  in  returning  to  your  coun- 
try home." 

"  Tliat  would  indeed  be  very  pleasant,  for  it 
is  much  prettier  at  home  than  here.    But  —  " 

"  But  what  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  return  without  having  accom- 
plished anything." 

"  xVnd  do  you  think  that  you  will  now  be 
able  to  accomplish  somctlnng?" 

"  Now  tliat  I  have  money.  I  will  be  more 
prudent,  too,  in  future." 

The  officer  smiled.  lie  walked  up  and 
dowii  the  room  several  times,  and  then,  turn- 
ing to  Gustavus,  paid, — 

"  My  Kon,  I  have  an  idea  !  You  can  indeed 
remain  hero  and  become  a  painter  " 


THE  YOUNG  PAIKTER. 


107 


"  Indeed  !    Truly  ?  "  cried  Gustavus. 

"  Yes,  a  house-painter." 

"  A  house-painter  !  "  repeated  Gustavus,  hh 
sudden  delight  evidently  checked. 

"  Look  round  this  room  !  Observe  the  hluo 
■walls  and  the  gracefully  ornamented  ceiling. 
Arc  they  not  pretty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very  pretty  ;  but  —  " 

"  Well,  don't  they  please  you  ?  " 

"  They  are  not  pictures  !  " 

"  Is  that  it  ?  You  have  then  a  notion  to  bo 
a  painter  who  paints  fine  pictures  upon  can- 
vas,—  faces,  landscapes,  scenes^  and  groups 
from  life.    Come,  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  would  like  be  a  painter  like 
Eaphael !  " 

"  Verily  !     Indeed  !      laughed   the  police  • 
officer.      Your  aim  is  certainly  lofty  enough  ! 
"Who  put  that  idea  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  No  one.  But  I  am  always  thinking  how 
much  I  should  like  to  be  an  artist ;  and  almost 
every  night  I  dream  I  am  a  real  painter,  and 
paint  beautiful  pictures." 

The  police  officer  was  deeply  interested  in 
the  boy's  welfare,  and  sincerely  desirous  of 


108 


TUE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


serving  liim.  lie  could  no  longer  doubt  that 
Gustavus  had  a  decided  vocation  to  the  profes- 
sion of  a  painter,  especially  as  in  searching  the 
treasured  portfolio,  he  had  been  favorably  im- 
pressed with  the  boy's  first  attempts.  But  ]\o 
could  see  no  means  of  overcoming  the  many 
difficulties  lying  in  the  "way  of  attaining  so 
lofty  an  a;m.  Hence,  speaking  very  earnestly, 
he  addressed  the  lad  as  follows :  — 

"  My  child,  what  I  am  about  to  say  is  for 
your  own  good.  I  will  give  you  good  advice, 
and  I  think  you  had  better  follow  it.  As  yet, 
you  cannot  become  an  artist.  You  have  not 
the  means,  and  your  fifty  dollars  will  go  but  a 
very  little  way.  You  arc  also  still  too  young 
to  battle  your  own  way  through  the  world. 
I  seriously  think  you  will  be  forced  to  begin 
with  house-painting.  I  will  procure  you  a 
good,  honest  master,  with  whom  you  cannot 
fail  to  learn.  If  you  are  diligent,  you  must  in 
time  earn  something  for  yourself.  Meanwhile, 
you  will  become  older  and  wiser.  If,  after  tiio 
lapse  of  several  years,  you  still  retain  the  de- 
sire of  devoting  yourself  to  painting  as  an  art, 
you  will  be  free  to  choose  for  yourself,  and  tlio 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


100 


intermcdiato  time  will  have  been  by  no  means 
lost.    Come,  now,  what  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

"You  think,  then,"  said  Gustavus,  "that 
from  a  house-painter  I  could  in  time  become 
a  real  painter  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  think  so." 

"  0,  then  I  consent,  most  joyfully  !  " 

Thus  ended  an  interview  which  was  to  exer- 
cise a  weighty  influence  upon  the  future  of  our 
Gustavus.     The  police  officer  kept  his  word ; 
he  found  a  good  master,  and  a  few  days  later 
Gustavus  began  his  duties  as  an  apprentice, 
j       We  need  scarcely  mention  that  Gustavus 
'    employed  his  first  leisure  hours  in  writing  a 
long  letter  to  his  father,  in  which  all  his  ad- 
j    ventures  were  duly  recounted. 


10 


CHAPTER  YII. 


GUSTAVUS  LIVES  AND  LEARNS  AMONG  KIND 
PEOPLE. 

The  family  wliicli  the  police  officer  had  in^ 
duced  to  receive  Gustavus  was  as  respectahlo 
as  it  was  charming.  The  painter,  Huber,  a 
man  of  forty  years  of  age,  was  upright  and 
honest,  full  of  love  to  God  and  man,  and  be- 
loved by  all  his  friends  and  neighbors.  His 
skill  as  a  decorative  painter  was  such  that  ho 
Avas  much  prized  and  sought  after,  and  conse- 
quently in  excellent  circumstances.  His  wife 
was  not  less  distinguished  for  the  kindness  and 
gentleness  of  her  disposition,  and  her  house- 
hold was  governed  with  that  quiet  industry  and 
tender  consideration,  which  can  so  well  pursue 
the  rood  and  the  useful,  without  neglecting  the 
beautiful  and  the  agreeable. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


Ill 


Threo  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was 
about  twelve  years  old,  completed  the  happi- 
ness of  this  excellent  couple  ;  for  not  only  were 
the  little  ones  healthy  and  well  grown,  but 
well  brought  up  ;  not  only  bright  and  gay,  but 
modest,  obedient,  and  industrious. 

A  heartfelt  spirit  of  love  and  peace  united 
these  good  people  into  so  happy  and  delightful 
a  whole,  that  both  God  and  man  must  liavc 
rejoiced  over  the  harmonious  concord. 

Tlie  arrival  of  Gustavus  was  of  course  quite 
an  event  for  the  little  family.  Master  Huber 
liad  a  large  number  of  journeymen  and  appren- 
tices, but  they  all  lived  out  of  the  house.  The 
kind  and  considerate  police  officer  had,  however, 
begged  an  exception  to  the  rule  in  favor  of 
Gustavus.  He  had  so  heartily  recommended 
the  boy,  and  his  history  was  one  calculated  to 
excite  so  much  interest,  that  the  family  were 
all  in  anxious  expectation  of  his  arrival.  To- 
ward evening  he  made  his  appearance  ;  his 
manners  were  modest,  but  devoid  of  fear  ;  and 
though  still  preserving  all  the  simplicity  of  his 
country  breeding,  he  was  neither  awkward  nor 
boorish.  lie  was  greeted  with  a  hearty  wel- 
come, and  soon  felt  quite  at  home. 


112 


THE  YOUXG  PAINTER. 


"  Mj  son,"  said  Iliiber,  "  may  thy  commg 
among  iis  blessed  to  iis  all !  Mayest  thou 
bring  peace  to  our  roof,  and  mayest  tliou  in 
return  receive  peace .  and  happiness  from  us. 
Poor  cliild  !  fortune  has  used  thee  somcwliat 
roughly,  and  thy  young  soul  lias  been  fearfully 
tried  !  Thou  must  rest  thyself  awhile  until 
tliou  feelest  quite  restored  to  thyself.  And 
now,  mother,  give  the  lad  something  to  cat." 

But  the  mother  had  already  prepared  cvery- 
tliing.  She  kindly  invited  Gustavus  to  partake 
of  the  little  meal  slie  had  arranged  for  him, 
and  the  boy  needed  no  pressing.  The  three 
children,  meanwhile,  could  not  satiate  their 
childish  curiosity,  but  gazed  unceasingly  upon 
the  stranger.  They  favored  him  Avitli  sundry 
friendly  nods,  and  seemed  delighted  when  he 
held  out  his  hand  to  them,  playfully  caressed 
them,  and  finally  took  the  baby  daughter  into 
his  arms. 

How  different  was  this  reception  from  that 
whicli  had  greeted  liim  at  Feldbcrg's.  He  had 
tlici'e  been  at  once  repelled  by  something  cold, 
strange,  and  fearful,  and  after  tlie  lapse  of  a 
few  days,  had  felt  as  if  in  some  desolate  waste, 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


113 


surrounded  only  by  all  kinds  of  reptiles  and 

I     creeping  horrors. 

Here,  as  wc  have  said,  he  soon  felt  at  home. 

I     Every  word  fell  soothingly  upon  his  heart,  and 

I  every  exprei-sion  bore  the  stamp  of  goodness 
and  love.  The  peaceful' atmosphere  surround- 
ing the  Avliole  household  seemed  to  him  like  a 
genial  breath  from  his  beloved  home.  The 
family  soon  felt  as  if  they  had  long  known  the 
new-comer,  and  Gustavus  reciprocated  all  their 
feelings  of  conhdencc  and  affection.  The  good 
always  comprehend  the  good,  and  where  God 
is,  there  is  always  a  heart  which  can  find  him 

I  without  fear,  doubt,  or  mistrust.  When  Gus- 
tavus that  evening  said  his  evening  prayer, 
how  fervent  were  his  thanks  for  the  blessed 
haven  into  which  he  had  been  safely  guided 
after  so  stormy  a  voyage  among  the  rocks  and 
shoals  of  human  life. 

The  following  day,  Gustavus  made  his  hrst 
attempt  in  his  new  profession.  There  were,  in 
a  newly  built  house,  quite  a  number  of  rooms 
and  halls  to  be  painted.  Iluber  was  delighted 
at  the  aptitude  displayed  by  the  boy  from  the 
very  beginning  ;  what  then  was  his  astonish- 
10  # 


114:  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

mcnt,  when  in  a  short  time  he  perceived  indica- 
tions of  talent,  a  quickness  of  comprehension, 
and  a  diligence  far  surpassing  his  expecta- 
tions. The  master  needed  only  once  to  signify 
his  wishes,  to  give  one  example,  and  the  order 
was  immediately  executed  as  neatly  and  ele- 
gantly as  if  he  had  long  bceii  acquainted  with 
all  the  mysteries  of  house-painting. 

"  That  is  a  noble  lad  !  "  said  Huber  ono 
evening  to  his  wife.  "  It  is  a  real  pleasure  to 
^ee  him  work.  He  gives  his  master  no 
trouble !  I  foresee  the  time  when  he  will 
tower  above  me,  head  and  shoulders.  He 
already  docs  many  things  better  than  I  ever 
attempted,  or  cared  to  do  them  !  " 

"  And  he  is  likewise  a  good  and  a  pious 
child!"  added  the  mistress.  "Always  willing, 
cheerful,  and  good-natured  !  I  do  not  think 
there  is  a  single  grain  of  falsehood  in  his 
whole  composition.  It  makes  him  so  happy 
when  he  can  lend  me  any  assistance.  And 
how  lovely  he  is  with  the  children  !  He  plays 
witli  them  as  if  he  were  himself  a  little  child, 
and  they  hang  on  him  like  so  many  burs  !  " 

We  will  not  attempt  to  describe  in  detail  the 


Tin-:  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


115 


life  led  by  Gustaviis  in  the  good  painter's 
house.  Its  course  was  very  uniform,  divided 
between  hours  of  diligent  hibor  and  intervals 
cf  repose  amid  the  quiet  family  circle.  The 
favorable  opinion  expressed  by  Huber  concern- 
ing his  pupil  was  fully  justified.  The  master 
was  especially  charmed  by  the  boy's  extraordi- 
nary inventive  powers,  enabling  him  to  trace 
upon  paper  new  and  tasteful  designs,  which  ho 
afterwards  transferred  to  walls  and  ceilings. 
It  is  true  that  he  frequently  deviated  from  the 
prevailing  fashion,  but  every  one  was  forced 
to  confess  that  such  deviations  were  justified 
by  the  grace  and  beauty  of  his  designs.  Occa- 
sionally, when  permitted  a  larger  liberty,  and 
he  could  introduce  a  human  face,  a  landscape, 
or  a  few  flowers  into  the  composition,  he 
worked  with  all  his  heart,  and  it  was  wonder- 
ful how  fresh,  accurate,  and  pleasing  were  the 
results  of  his  efforts,  and  with  what  magic  they 
seemed  spontaneously  to  spring  from  beneath 
his  busy  pencil.  By  the  end  of  the  first  year, 
the  master  could  safely  intrust  him  with  the 
most  difiicult  and  artistic  commissions  ;  and  it 
often  happened  that  persons  ordering  work 


116 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTEK. 


■svould  prcssingly  insist  upon  having  it  ex- 
ecuted by  the  lively,  industrious,  and  skilful 
boy. 

But  all  this  could  by  no  means  induce  Gus- 
tavus  to  lose  sight  of  his  higher  calling.  The 
mere  mechanical  business  of  wall-painting 
failed  to  satisfy  his  soul.  The  more  readily 
everything  coidd  be  accomplished,  the  less  was 
he  content.  He  desired  to  create  freely  from 
liis  own  inspirations,  to  copy  the  human  face 
and  the  human  form,  to  penetrate  the  secret 
mysteries  of  nature,  and  through  the  magic  of 
color,  bring  them  to  the  light  of  day.  This 
interior  impulse  drove  him  to  all  the  picturo- 
galleries  in  the  capital,  and  an  art  exhibition 
which  that  year  took  place  ofifered  him  unut- 
terable enjoyment  and  delight.  What  he  saw 
and  thoughtfully  considered  was  stored  up  in 
his  faithful  memory  as  a  rich  treasure  for 
future  use.  During  his  leisure  hours,  he  drew 
and  painted  in  his  little  room  to  his  heart's 
desire. 

He  had  set  for  himself  a  charming  task.  IIo 
determined  to  copy  in  a  larger  size  the  por- 
trait in  his  locket,  —  his  mother,  as  he  alwpyti 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


117 


called  it.  She  stood  so  clearly  and  distinctly 
before  his  imagination  that  he  had  no  difficulty 
ill  delineating  the  beloved  features.  But  often 
as  they  were  painted  and  repainted,  they  failed 
to  satisfy  him.  In  fact,  no  one  could  mistake 
the  likeness,  but  the  expression  of  love  and 
goodness,  the  heavenly  clearness  of  the  eye, 
and  the  indescribably  lovely  smile  jdaying 
about  the  mouth  seemed  beyond  his  reach. 
His  mother's  face  had  become  his  ideal  of  all 
that  was  lofty  and  noble  in  humanity  ;  no  won- 
der, then,  that  every  copy  foil  far  below  his  de- 
sires and  intentions  !  Those  were  his  happiest 
hours  !  For  while  he  painted,  his  imagination 
was  excited  with  pondering  over  the  mystery 
of  liis  birth.  Who  were  his  parents  ?  How 
had  he  happened  to  be  upon  the  battle-field  at 
Lcipsic  ?  These  questions  received  from  his 
fancy  the  most  various  replies,  and  the  most 
romantic  and  wonderful  pictures  were  ever 
floating  before  his  interior  vision. 

Iluber  also  gave  the  boy  all  the  aid  he  could 
in  his  higher  efforts.  He  was  not  properly  an 
artist,  but  he  had  considerable  knowledge  of 
painting.    When  he  saw  how  anxious  his  pupil 


118  TUE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

Tvas  to  learn,  lie  imparted  to  liim  many  ralu^ 
ble  pieces  of  information ;  he  tanglit  him  how 
to  prepare  liis  colors,  instructed  him  in  tlie 
laws  of  perspective,  the  nature  of  light  and 
shade,  and  gave  him  many  useful  hints  on  the 
theory  and  practise  of  art.  He  also  lent  liim 
several  works  upon  painting,  which  Gustavus 
frequently  studied  until  late  in  the  night. 

Thus  did  two  years  swiftly  pass  away.  Ou 
the  second  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which 
Gustavus  first  entered  Huber's  house,  the  latter 
made  a  little  festival.  The  weather  w^as  very 
fine,  and  tlie  whole  family  went  to  a  neighbor- 
ing country  place.  There  were  found  some 
graceful  acacias  in  full  bloom,  and  all  were 
soon  seated  in  the  cool  and  fragrant  shade. 
The  mother  had  prepared  a  variety  of  tempting 
refreshments,  and  the  father  had  brought  a 
flask  of  excellent  wine. 

All  were  joyously  happy,  and  vied  with  tho 
feathered  songsters  singing  amid  the  branches 
overliead  in  loudly  celebrating  their  delight 
and  greeting  the  arrival  of  another  spring. 

Suddenly  the  father  enjoined  silence,  and 
said  :  "  My  son  Gustavus, — for  thou  art  my  sou 


THE  YOUNG  rAIXTER. 


119 


through  the  bvo  I  bear  thcc,  as  well  as  through 
tho  affection  thou  hast  ever  shown  to  me,  —  thou 
hast  now  been  two  years  in  our  liouse.  These 
have  been  for  us  all  two  blissful  years,  and  I 
rejoice  to  say  that  thou  hast  added  much  to 
our  happiness.  AVitli  thee,  a  good  spirit  en- 
tered our  dwelling  to  bless  us.  Thou  wert 
confided  to  me  on  condition  that  I  would  to 
the  best  of  my  ability  instruct  thee  in  my  art. 
I  have  done  so.  But  thou  hast  done  far  more 
for  tliyself  than  I  coidd  do  for  thcc.  Heaven 
has  endowed  thee  with  such  unusual  abilities 
tliat  thou  hast  scarcely  need  to  learn ;  tliou 
only  requirest  once  to  see  and  to  understand, 
and  tliou  art  quite  ready  to  execute.  Tliou 
hast  harned  more  in  two  years  than  other  ap- 
prentices in  four  ;  I  can  no  longer  regard  thee 
as  my  pupil.  Through  thy  extraordinary  gifts, 
thou  hast  done  much  to  widen  my  circle  of 
business  and  to  increase  my  reputation.  I 
should  be  both  unreasonable  and  ungrateful 
were  I  not  to  admit  thee  to  a  participation  in 
niy  profit.  From  henceforth  thou  art  free. 
Thou  art  no  longer  my  apprentice,  but  my 
partner  and  assistant,  and  thou  shalt  receive 
the  same  remuneration  as  my  other  assistants." 


120  Tin:  YOUNG  I'AINTER. 

Wlio  c.a:i  d^scribo  Va3  spocclilcss  astoiiish- 
moiit  witli  whicli  Gustavus  listened  to  these 
words  !  It  A\MS  not  joy  at  the  announccmciit 
tliat  his  a])prcnticcship  Avas  over,  nor  pride  i:i 
tlie  praise  tluis  bestowed  upon  liim,  tliat  so  cu- 
raptured  him ;  no,  it  was  the  true  and  lieart- 
fAt  love  speaking  througli  every  word  and  ])cn- 
ctrating  his  soul  like  the  mild  and  balmy  breath 
of  spring.  lie  fell  weeping  upon  his  master's 
neck,  and  cried  :  "  0,  this  is  too  mucli !  Far, 
far  more  than  I  can  ever  have  deserved !  " 

But  at  that  moment  the  mother  produced  a 
basket  containing  a  variety  of  over  and  under 
garments,  A\4iich  with  many  friendly  words  sho 
offered  to  Gustavus  in  token  of  her  affection. 
Then  came  the  children  :  the  eldest  had  woven 
a  crown  of  spring-flowers  which  she  caressing- 
ly placed  upon  tlie  boy's  head,  while  the  two 
little  ones  took  bodily  possession  of  his  hands 
and  knees,  embracing  him  as  their  elder  broth- 
er. His  heart  was  so  full,  so  overflowing  with 
emotion,  that  it  was  some  time  before  he  could 
recover  his  self-control  and  power  of  speech. 

It  was  quite  late  before  the  happy  party  re- 
turned to  their  dwelling  in  the  city. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


121 


Again  anotlicr  year  passed  swiftly  like  Iho 
last  in  peaceful  uniformity  of  life.  The  rela- 
tions of  our  Gustavus  with  this  amiable  and 
affectionate  family  continued  unchanged.  IIo 
never  relaxed  a  moment  in  that  diligence  which 
he  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  important  aids 
to  the  great  end  he  still  held  in  view.  His 
hodily  strength  and  stature  rapidly  increased ; 
he  was  soon  no  longer  a  boy,  but  a  youth  Avliom 
one  might  readily  suppose  a  year  older  than  ho 
really  was.  His  noble  countenance,  beaming 
eye,  luxuriantly  curling  hair,  and  slender  but 
well-proportioned  fignre,  rendered  him  a  uni- 
versal favorite,  especially  as,  in  adcfftion  to  these 
pliysical  advantages,  his  bearing  and  manners 
had'  been  polished  and  refined  by  his  associa- 
tion with  the  painter's  excellent  family,  without 
having  in  the  least  lost  their  original  frankness 
and  true-heartcdness. 

Would  not  any  one  have  thought  that  amid 
such  fortunate  circumstances  he  must  have  folt 
quite  happy  and  contented  ?  But  this  was  not 
the  case.  The  older  he  grew,  the  more  he  be- 
came convinced  that  he  was  not  in  his  true  vo- 
cation. Lot  him  adorn  walls  and  ceilings  eve: 
11 


122 


TIIK   YOUNG  rAINTER. 


SO  graccfiillj  aiul  artistically,  this  could  ncrcr 
bo  anything  but  a  more  mechanical  occu- 
pation, satisfying  neither  his  mind  nor  his 
heart. 

Art,  to  which  he  was  no  longer  a  stranger, 
had  chosen  him  as  one  of  her  favored  disciples, 
and  tlie  longing  to  devote  his  whole  life  to  licr 
service  increased  almost  to  feverish  impatience. 
His  thoughts  were  continually  turned  toward 
Dresden,  then  renowned  among  the  cities  of 
Germany  for  its  treasures  of  painting,  and  its 
appreciation  for  art.  Ho  felt  that  he  would 
there  find  all  that  filled  his  thoughts  by  day 
and  his  dreams  by  night. 

But  could  he  loave  the  kind,  good  people  to 
whom  he  was  so  closely  knit  in  bonds  of  love  ? 
His  feelings  taught  him  that  he  had  become 
necessary  to  them,  and  that  they  would  suffer 
much  were  he  now  to  leave  them.  What  a 
debt  of  gratitude  did  he  not  owe  them  ?  When 
lie  stood  alone  and  forsaken  in  a  world  of  stran- 
gers, they  had  taken  him  by  the  hand,  and  had 
never  ceased  to  pour  around  him  all  the  bless- 
ings of  a  father's  and  a  mother's  love.  Would  it 
not  be  the  blackest  ingratitude  in  him  to  leavo 


THE   YOUNG  PA  INTER. 


123 


tlicir.  now  that  li3  liad  bccomo  useful  to  tlicm, 
and  could  i:i  somo  dcgreo  repay  tliem  for  all 
tlioj  had  do:ic  for  him?  No  siu  was  more  ab- 
horrent to  his  kind  and  tender  heart  than  that 
of  ingratitude. 

Such  thoughts  tormented  him  unceasingly, 
lie  became  melancholy  and  silent,  often  witii- 
drawing  from  the  family  circle,  and  seeking  in 
solitude  counsel  and  refuge  in  his  perplexities. 
A  hundred  times  was  he  on  the  point  of  an- 
nouncing his  resolution  to  his  master,  and  as 
often  did  his  courage  fail  before  a  single  glance 
of  that  kind  and  loving  eye. 

Father  Huber  and  his  wife  often  questioned 
him  with  regard  to  the  cau!-:o  of  his  sadness, 
but  he  ever  returned  evasive  answers,  or,  to 
relieve  the  anxiety  of  his  kind  protectors,  would 
vainly  endeavor  to  seem  more  cheerful. 

Finally,  one  evennig  when  the  family  were 
as  usual  all  sitting  confidentially  together,  Hu- 
ber could  no  longer  refrain  from  endeavoring 
seriously  to  probe  the  mystery.  Gustavus  was 
more  silent  than  ever,  and  an  imslied  tear 
seemed  trembling  on  his  lids. 

"  Gustavus,"  said  Ilubcr,  "  1  must  indeed  in 


124 


THE   rOUNG  PAINTER. 


sorioiis  earnest  bog  tlioo  to  toll  mo  what  lies  s 
lioavily  upon  tliy  heart,  for  that  thou  hast  any- 
thing upon  tliy  conscicnco  I  cannot  believe. 
Thou  canst  no  longer  clucb  mo  ;  I  must  and 
Avill  know  the  truth." 

The  youth  looked  up.  His  eyes  were  swim- 
ming in  tears. 

"  See,  thou  weepest,"  continued  Hubcr. 
"  That  is  something  quite  new  for  thee,  for  I 
never  knew  a  livelier  lad  than  thou  once  wcrt. 
It  must  be  something  very  dreadful  to  cause 
thine  eyes  +hus  to  overflow." 

"  Ah  !  my  good  master,  I  cannot  toll  it  I  " 

"  What !  Canst  thou  really  have  a  secret 
which  should  make  thee  blush  to  speak  ?  " 

No,  oh  no,  it  is  not  that !  I  have  dono 
notiiinQ:  wronj? !    But  " 

"  Come,  my  son,  this  will  not  do.  If  I  am 
to  aid  thee,  thou  must  hrst  of  all  have  confi- 
dence in  me." 

You  insist  upon  knowing  it,  and  it  must 
at  length  bo  told  !  I  intend,  —  I  must  Icavo 
you  !  " 

These  words  excited  the  greatest  astonish- 
ment in  the  minds  of  Huber  and  his  wife. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


12.J 


What !  thou  Tvilt  leave  us  ?  No,  v/e  cllel 
hct  expect  this  !  " 

.No,  indeed,  you  did  not  expect  this  from 
m-j  !  You  thought  that  you  had  brouglit  3*0111- 
Gustavus  up  so  well,  and  that  he  felt  so  happy 
witli  you  all,  tliat  ho  would  never,  never  think 
of  baving  you." 

"  Thou  expressest  my  very  thought,  and  so 
mucli  tlic  more  curious  am  I  to  know  the 
cause  of  this  strange  resolution." 

"  You  Avish  to  know  the  cause  ?  You  al- 
ready know  why  I  left  my  father's  house.  I 
did  so  tliat  I  might  become  a  painter.  It  was 
tlien  a  childish  impulse,  —  no,  it  was  more. 
It  Avas  a  voice  speaking  from  within,  wliich, 
even  then,  Avhen  I  scarcely  understood  its 
meaning,  decided  the  whole  future  of  my  life. 
I  am  now  three  years  older,  and  the  voice  still 
calls  me ;  yea,  more  distinctly  than  ever. 
Master,  I  can  no  longer  withstand  it,  I  must 
follow  where  it  leads." 

Iluber  was  silent  a  few  moments  ere  ho 
replied. 

"  My  dear  Gustavus,  what  thou  hast  said 
troubles  me  exceedhigly.     Wo   might  havo 
u  * 


126  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

lived  so  doliglitfully  together.  AVo  regarded 
tho3  almost  as  our  own  son,  and  we  hoped  thy 
afTectioji  for  ns  would  ever  load  thee  to  dwell  in 
our  midst.  I  had  such  fine  projects  in  yiqw  for 
thee,  because  I  thought  thou  wouldst  in  time 
learn  to  love  my  occupation.  But  all  tliat  is 
over ;  of  course,  I  cannot  keep  thee  if  thou 
Avishest  to  depart.  It  makes  me  very  sad;  yea, 
it  pains  me  deeply." 

Gustavus  sprang  to  liis  feet. 

"  0,  it  is  just  that,"  cried  he,  "  whicli 
causes  mo  such  unspeakable  sorrow !  I  can- 
not bear  that  you  should  think  mo  so  wicked 
and  ungrateful  as  I  must  appear  to  you.  What 
would  I  havo  been  if  you  had  not  taken  pity 
on  me  ?  Probably  a  poor,  lost  creature,  or  per- 
haps a  mere  day-laborer  !  I  must  thank  you 
for  all  I  am  and  all  I  can  do.  And  now  I 
must  loavo  you.  Yes,  indeed,  that  is  very 
ungrateful !  " 

"  Well,  but  who  forces  you  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  I  havo  already  told  you,  master.  An  in- 
ternal impulse  forces  me  onward  toward  the 
lofty  goal  which,  since  my  earliest  childhood, 
lias  ever  stood  before  me  in  the  most  brilliant 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


127 


and  alluring  liucs.  Art  calls  mc,  and  I  mu^t 
follow.  All  my  thoughts  and  all  my  wishes 
centre  in  that  one  point." 

"  I  am  sorry  thou  thinkest  so  meanly  of  my 
art,  tliat  it  cannot  aiford  thee  the  least  satisfac- 
tion." 

"  0  no,  no  ;  I  do  not  think  meanly  of  it ! 

j  How  could  I  do  so,  when  you,  my  dear  master, 
arc  so  sincerely  devoted  to  it.  It  is  indeed 
well  to  adorn  the  dwellings  of  men  with  beau- 
tiful colors  and  graceful  ornaments.  But  is  it 
not  still  more  noble  to  adorn  them  with  pic- 
tures representing  nature  and  humanity  in 

'     their  most  elevated  and  ideal  forms  ?  " 

Thou  speakest  very  boldly,  my  son  !  An 
artist,  such  as  thou  fanciest,  must  have  talent. 
Art  thou,  then,  so  sure  that  thou  possessest  this 
heavenly  gift  ?  In  my  opinion,  it  is  better  to 
be  a  good  wall-painter,  than  a  mediocre  picture- 
painter." 

"  I  agree  with  you  ;  that  is  indeed  the  main 
point.    If  I  have  no  talent,  then  am  I  the  most 
!     Unfortunate  man  under  the  sun.    But  no,  I 
am  sure,  I  feel  that  I  have  the  power  to  accom- 
plish something  excellent.    0,  do  not  think 


128-  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

1113  vain  bocaiiso  I  [peak  thus.  Jily  power  is 
not  from  myself;  it  comes  from  God,  and  no 
one  could  thank  God  for  cuch  a  gift  more 
liumbly  than  I  do." 

^'  Well,  we  will  grant  that !  Thou  hast 
talent,  tliou  wilt  bo  an  artist.  But  thou  little 
drcame^t  of  all  that  is  connected  therewith. 
Thou  art  young,  thou  seest  the  world  before 
thee  crowned  with  roses  ;  but  the  thorns  thou 
dost  not  sec,  those  sharp,  piercing  thorns  which 
so  often  penetrate  so  deeply  and  so  painfully 
the  heart  of  the  truest  artist.  Thou  knowest 
nothing  of  his  mental  miseries,  of  his  pa,inful 
renunciations ;  nothing  of  the  enmity  of  his 
rivals,  or  the  fickle  favor  or  indifference  of  the 
multitude.  lie  who  lovingly  embraces  the 
whole  world,  and  bears  it  transfigured  in  his 
lieart  of  hearts,  must  often  find  himself  mis- 
known,  calumniated,  and  deeply  wounded. 
The  life  of  most  artiets  is  a  series  of  isolated 
raptures,  severe  struggles,  long  sorrows,  and 
bitter  disappointments." 

Huher  spoke  these  words  Avith  great  warmth, 
and  tlien  for  a  time  continued  thoughtfully 
silent.  Gustavus  was  deeply  moved  ;  he  leaned 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


129 


liis  licad  upon  his  hand,  and  cccmcd  lost  in 
reverie. 

"  Look  at  me,"  resumed  llic  master.  I 
am  no  artist ;  mj  art  is  but  a  somewhat  ele- 
vated handicraft.  I  have  never  had  such 
dreams  as  seem  to  torment  tlieo  ;  I  have  al- 
ways clung  to  tlie  golden  mean  !  Y\"hat  then  ? 
Am  I  not  happy  ?  Do  not  my  friends  love 
me  ?  Have  I  not  peace  and  joy  in  my  home  ? 
Does  not  my  labor  yield  mo  a  full  support,  and 
have  I  not  always  something  over  to  strew  tho 
patliway  of  our  more  serious  life  wnth  many 
flowers  ?  "What  more  can  a  man  desire  than 
to  bo  satisfied  with  little,  and  to  remain  true  to 
his  modest  calling  ?  This  happiness  has  been 
secured  to  theo.  But  the  path  that  thou 
wouldest  tread  leads  over  unknown  wastes  to 
a  giddy  height.  Consider  well  thy  first  step, 
and  remember  tho  fate  of  Icarus.  He  would 
fly  up  to  the  sun,  but  hiswnngs  melted,  and  lio 
fjll  into  the  unfathomable  abyss." 

During  these  words,  Gustavus  had  risen  from 
liis  seat,  and  in  great  agitation  walked  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"  0,  you  arc  quite  right,"  cried  lie,  I 


130  Tin:  YOCNG  painter. 

cannot  say  no  to  anything  yoxi  liavo  advanced 
1  wisli  I  could  !    And  yet  —  " 

"  Well,  and  yet  ?  " 
Yes,  you  are  happy  in  your  vocation,  ))> 
causo  you  arc  satisfied.    But  I  never  could  bo 
happy,  because  I  never  could  feel  satisfied." 

"  Gustavus !  Gustavus !  "  cried  Huber, tlicso 
words  from  thy  lips  pain  me  deeply." 

"  They  must  be  spoken  !  ^ly  heart  demands 
something  more,  something  higher  !  Call  mo 
foolish,  capricious,  viirionary,  if  you  ^vill !  I 
-will  grant  you  everything.  But  one  thing  I 
must  beg,  that  you  do  not  misconstrue  my 
heart.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  it  pains  mc  that 
I  must  thus  distress  you.  But  God  knows  I 
cannot  do  otherwise.  My  goal  is  indeed  afar 
off;  but  still  it  gleams  clearly  and  distinctly 
within  my  soul.  What  I  shall  meet  upon  the 
way,  joy  or  pain,  I  know  not.  But  if  I  can 
only  reach  my  aim,  I  will  cheerfully  bear  all 
that  may  happen,  blaster,"  —  at  tliesc  words 
lie  seized  Iluber's  hand  and  bent  his  knee  be- 
fore him,  —  "  blaster,  suffer  mc  to  depart,  and 
bless  me  upon  my  way  !  " 

Mrs.  Ilubcr  had  hitherto  been  a  silent  but 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


131 


sympathizing  listener.  Now  tliat  Gustavns 
thus  imploringly  knelt  before  her  husband 
(who  still  hesitated  witli  Avords  of  warning 
upon  his  lips),  she  could  no  longer  refrain,  and 
said,  — 

"  Father,  do  not  grieve  our  Gustavus  any 
longer.  Thou  seest  he  is  resolved.  And 
though  it  pains  me  deeply  to  lose  him,  yet  I 
believe  he  is  right.  I  have  long  observed 
something  peculiar  and  unusual  in  his  nature, 
which  Avas  certainly  created  to  fulfd  some  lofty 
end.  The  divinity  within  him  impels  him  on- 
ward  and  upward.  His  heart  speaks  too 
plainly  to  suffer  us  to  be  deceived.  Wc  must 
not  then  deprive  him  of  his  happiness  and  good 
fortune  !  " 

"  Thanks,  a  thousand  thanks  for  these  kind 
words !  "  cried  Gustavus,  bending  over  the 
mother's  hand  and  covering  it  with  fervent 
kisses. 

"  But,  mother,"  said  the  master,  "  dost  thou 
not  see  that  Gustavus  is  indispensable  to  me  ? 
Who  now  will  invent  the  newest  designs  for 
mc  ?  Who  will  paint  the  more  splendid  and 
t^teful  apartments  ?     If  my  business  has  of 


132 


THE   TOUXG  PAINTER. 


lato  increased  to  double  its  former  value,  wlic 
must  I  tliank  but  t!ic  lad  avIio  always  kucvr 
liow  to  find  the  newest  and  the  best  devices  ? 
AYlieii  lie  goes,  he  takes  witli  liim  my  right 
liand.  But  it  is  not  that  which  troubles  mo. 
It  is  the  boy  himself  that  I  shall  miss.  I  liavc 
become  so  accustomed  to  work  with  him,  to  talk 
wit!i  lum,  to  love  him,  that  I  cannot  see  wliat 
I  am  to  do  Avithout  him.  It  is  indeed  only  my 
love  for  him  that  makes  me  so  anxious  to  keep 
him  with  us." 

While  he  was  thus  speaking,  Gustavus  had 
suddenly  left  the  room,  and  now  returned  with 
a  roll  of  papers. 

"  Here  !  here  !  "  cried  he,  with  a  beaming 
countenance,  as  he  placed  the  roll  in  his  mas- 
ter's hand. 

What  is  tliis?  "  asked  the  latter,  imfolding 
a  number  of  sheets. 

"  Pardon,  pardon  !  I  have  long  harbored 
the  treacherous  thought  tliat  I  would  one  day 
ask  for  my  dismissal ;  and  I  fancied  I  might 
perhaps  leave  something  behind  me  which 
Avould  in  a  measure  supply  my  place." 

"  Excellent !    Beautiful !  "  cried  Ilubcr,  aa 


THE  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


1S3 


lie  examined  baf  after  loaf  ^vith  the  eye  of  a 
connoisseur.  On  every  page  were  clrawiiigfj 
and  sketches  of  wall  decorations,  executed  witU 
the  greatest  taste  and  neatness. 

"  And  thou  hast  drawn  all  these  for  me  ? 
Drawn  them  in  the  night  ?  Eh !  t'.iou  rogue, 
thou  wantcdst  to  bribe  me  !  Now,  indeed,  I 
have  stuff  enough  to  work  on  for  two  years  ! 
And  so  new  and  original !  A  thousand  pities 
tliat  the  boy  wont  be  a  wall-painter !  lie 
would  be  an  honor  to  the  profession  !  " 

Then  turning  to  Gustavus  and  seizing  his 
hand,  he  said  in  tender  and  affectionate  tones : 
"  Thou  hast  given  me  great  pleasure.  Thy 
designs  are  very  beautiful,  and  will  be  of  the 
greatest  assistance  to  me.  They  do  honor,  not 
only  to  thy  taste  and  invention,  but  also  to 
thy  heart.  I  now  see  that  1  must  let  thee  go  ; 
I  cannot  do  otherwise.  Go  then,  in  God's 
name,  wherever  thy  spirit  may  lead  thee.  And 
if  thou  shouldst  ever  become  a  great  painter, 
do  not  forget  thine  old  master,  who  is  indeed 
nothing  but  a  wall-painter,  but  who  will  not  be 
so  envious  that  he  cannot  heartily  rejoice  over 
the  good  fortune  and  the  fame  of  his  pupil." 

12 


134  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

Gustavus  fell  upon  Ilubcr's  neck, 
tlianked  him  over  and  over  again  for  this 
kind  consent  to  his  desire.  Then,  taking  the 
motlicr's  hand,  lie  cried,  "  And  now  I  havo 
something  else  for  you  ;  I  praj  you,  come  witli 
me,  all  of  you  !  " 

The  whole  family,  old  and  young,  followed 
him  to  his  little  room.  There  stood  an  easel 
on  which  rested  a  covered  picture.  After 
hastily  placing  father,  mother,  and  childrou 
together  in  one  group,  he  drew  aside  the  veil 
from  the  canvas;  and  lo  !  there  stood  the  whob 
family,  admirably  grouped,  and  well  painted ! 
There  sat  Huber,  with  his  honest,  friendly  coiri- 
t3nance  ;  by  his  side,  leaning  upon  his  shoul- 
dor,  was  his  wife,  smiling  softly,  with  her  young- 
est in  her  lap  playing  with  a  flower  ;  while  the 
eldest  daughter  stood  at  the  father's  knee,  and 
the  boy,  busied  with  a  book,  sat  at  the  mother's 
fjet.  A  little  behind,  stood  Gustavus,  with  a 
beaming  face,  looking  over  his  master's  shoul- 
der. The  likenesses  were  so  perfect,  tliat  all 
seemed  as  if  gazing  into  a  mirror.  A  cry  of 
delight  arose,  and  it  was  long  before  the  tu- 
mult of  joy  subsided.  The  happiest  of  all  was 
Gustavus. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTEK. 


135 


"  Thus,"  he  cried,  "  thus,  ye  good  and  dear 
ones,  thus  do  yc  live  in  my  heart ;  thus  will 
ye  ever  live  therein  !  Ah  !  I  so  longed  to  do 
something  that  might  show  you  my  gratitude. 
Take,  then,  this  only  gift  that  I  can  offer  you. 
The  best  thing  in  it,  is  the  love  with  which  it 
was  painted  !  " 

"  And  didst  thou  really  paint  that  ?  "  finally 
asked  Iluber,  slowly  recovering  from  his  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,  my  good  master  !  That  is  the  mys- 
tery which  has  so  long  occupied  me,  and  which 
has  sometimes  rendered  you  uneasy.  You 
often  Avondered  what  I  could  be  doing  with 
locked  doors." 

^'  Listen,  Gustavus  ;  thy  picture  is  excellent. 
In  the  keen  seizure  of  character  and  the  really 
artistic  grouping,  one  quite  forgets  that  it  is 
the  work  of  a  scholar.  And  when  I  remember 
tliat  thou  art  only  sixteen,  and  that  thou  hast 
had  so  little  instruction,  I  must  indeed  wonder 
at  thy  talent.  1  now  say  to  thee,  —  thou  must 
away !  I  could  not  ansvv^cr  to  my  own  con- 
science were  I  to  detain  thee  from  a  path  in 
which  thou  mayest  become  very  distinguished." 


136  THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 

"  And  dost  tiiou  know,"  said  tlio  mother, 
vr]iat  pbasos  mo  best  in  i]\y  picture  ?  —  tliat 
lliou  hast  not  forgotten  to  include  thyself  in  it. 
Thy  heart  has  truly  taught  thee  tliat  thou  art 
ours,  and  that  thou  wilt  ever  be  ours." 

0,  how  happy  I  feel !  "  cried  Gustavuc. 
"  !May  I  then,  when  I  am  far  away,  may  I  call 
myself  yours,  may  I  believe  that  you  will  ever 
lovingly  think  of  your  faithful  Gustavus? 
That  is  far  more  than  I  had  ventured  to 
hope  !  " 

The  picture  was  tlien  borne  in  triumpli  to 
tire  lower  room,  and  it  seemed  as  if  tlie  whole 
family  could  never  weary  of  gazing  upon  and 
examining  it. 

Gustavus's  journey  to  Dresden  was  now  a 
settled  fact,  and  the  next  few  days  were  passed 
in  making  the  necessary  preparations.  Mrs. 
Iluber  carefully  provided  all  that  the  most  ten- 
der mother  could  deem  needful,  and  the  master 
secreted  quite  a  considerable  sum  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  little  trunk. 

The  parting  took  place  in  the  light  of  the  carl/ 
morning.  Gustavus  received,  with  many  tears, 
the  assurances  of  unalterable  affection  and  tho 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER, 


137 


heartfelt  blessing  of  tlic  vrortliy  pair.  His  love 
and  gratitude  could  find  no  words.  The  cliil- 
dren  Avore  still  asleep,  and  ho  tenderly  kissed 
tliom  as  they  lay  in  tlicir  little  beds.  When 
they  awoke,  tney  refused  to  be  consoled,  be- 
cause tlicir  good  Gustavus  had  gone  away,  and 
could  no  longer  talk  and  play  v/itli  tbcm. 


C  II  AP  T  E  P.  YIII. 


GUSTAVU3  IN  DRESDKX,  AND   WHAT  IIAPPLNS  TO 

iinr  THERE. 

A  FEW  days  lator,  Gustaviis  reached  Dros- 
de:i.  How  different  was  his  first  appearance 
iii  tliat  city  from  his  entrance  three  years  be- 
fore i;ito  Breslau.  The  then  insin^nificant 
peasant-boy  liad  become  a  tall  youth,  whose 
dress  and  bearing  attracted  the  favorable  no- 
tice of  many  a  passer-by.  At  the  former 
period,  quite  inexperienced  and  unskilled  in 
t!ie  ways  of  the  world ;  he  had  now  grown 
familiar  with  its  forms  and  usages,  its  require- 
ments and  its  perils,  and  tlicre  was  no  longer 
any  danger  tliat  lie  would  fall  a  prey  to  bad 
men,  or  become  a  sacrifice  to  misleading  and 
bewildering  circumstance.  lie  was  not,  as 
tlien,  anxious  witli  regard  to  his  daily  bread, 
but  through-  his  own  savings  and  his  master's 


THE  YOUNG  rAIXTER. 


130 


generosity,  ho  was  the  possessor  of  a  consid- 
erable sum,  quito  sufficient,  with  economy,  to 
keep  him  a  long  time  above  the  fear  of  want. 
But  above  all,  liis  end  and  aim  now  stood 
clearly  defined  bolbic  him,  and  the  conviction 
that  ho  would  there  find  all  he  had  so  long 
boon  seeking  fdled  hiiii  with  such  cheerful 
assurance,  tliat  his  glance  Avas  serene,  his  step 
firm,  and  his  heart  hopeful  and  courageous. 

Gustavus  employed  tlie  first  few  days  in 
looking  about  the  beiuitiful  city.  Whoever 
has  been  in  Dresden  knows  how  grand  and 
spacious  arc  its  squan-b',  how  clean  and  bright 
I  its  streets,  liow  tastofal  its  palaces,  and  how 
beautiful  its  churches^.  Above  all,  the  Elbe, 
wliose  broad  stream  divides  the  city  into  two 
parts,  presents,  with  itn  lovely  shores,  an  un- 
rivalled picture.  Blooming  gardens,  line  vine- 
yards, and  ornamental  country-seats  extend 
to  tho  very  horizon,  bounded  by  the  waving 
lines  of  a  mountain  range.  Gustavus  was 
charmed  with  tlie  grandeur  and  beauty  in  the 
works  both  of  God  and  of  man  concentrated 
in  tliat  lovely  spot.  But  even  all  these  faded 
into  tho  background  tho  first  time  ho  entered 


HO 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


tlic  picture-gallery,  0:10  of  tlio  finest  and  most 
select  in  Europe. 

Tiiere  lie  saw  the  masterpieces  of  the  mort 
cultivated  nations.  Their  number  and  exceed- 
ing beautj  at  first  utterly  bewildered  him, 
and  his  admiration  and  amazement  knew  no 
bounds.  Like  one  in  a  dream,  he  wandered 
up  and  down  the  great  hall,  feeling,  as  his 
eye  fell  upon  certain  pictures,  as  if  he  could 
shout  for  joy,  or  bow  in  veneration,  until  at 
length  he  stood  before  the  celebrated  ^ladonna 
of  Raphael  (the  Sistine),  the  most  precious 
jewel  of  the  whole  collection.  When  he  be- 
held the  glorious  queen  of  heaven,  with  licr 
Divine  eon  in  her  arms,  floating  above  the 
cartli,  surrounded  by  a  glory  of  angels,  tears 
of  rapture  sprang  to  his  eyes,  —  tears  which 
not  only  honored  tlie  immortal  genius  of  tlie 
great  master,  but  also  gave  assurance  tliat  tlie 
youth's  devotion  to  art  was  indeed  of  heavenly 
origin.  From  thenceforth  he  visited  the  gallery 
every  day. 

Ilnber  had  named  to  Gustavus  several 
painters  with  whom  ho  miglit  seek  to  be  ad- 
mitted as  a  pupil.    One  of  them  —  wc  will 


call  liiin  Roland  —  was  especially  celebrated. 
Giistaviis  caw  one  of  his  ])icturcs  i:i  the  gal- 
lery, a:id  fjlt  indescribably  attracted  toward 
its  aiitlior.  The  painting  represented  a  beau- 
tiful mountain  landscape,  witli  aged  oaks  and 
pines,  bold  rocks  and  rushing  streams,  —  the 
Fun  was  just  gilding  with  his  fir:Lt  rays  the 
mountain-tops,  and  the  clouds  floating  in  tlio 
transparent  blue  of  heaven  ;  in  the  foreground, 
beside  a  little  hut,  knelt  a  hermit  lost  in  de- 
votion, and  praying  to  the  great  Creator  of  the 
glorious  nature  around  him.  All  lay  in  sol- 
emn peace  and  silent  beauty,  announcing  the 
greatness  and  goodness  of  Him  Avho,  with  al- 
miglity  power  and  infinite  love,  rides  over 
tlie  works  of  his  creation. 

Gustavus  often  returned  to  this  picture,  and 
soon  liad  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  pairJter 
himself,  who,  accompanied  by  several  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  stood  before  Ids  latest  produc- 
tion. His  noble  figure  and  benign  counte- 
nance made  a  deep  impression  upon  our  young 
friend,  and  fdled  him  Avith  a  burning  desire 
I  to  be  guided  by  him  tlu'ough  tlie  high.cr  walks 
of  art,  -I3ut  how  could  ho  approach  him,  how 


142 


THE  TOUNG  PAINTER. 


ill  Ills  lowliness  hope  to  bo  regarded  and 
hearkened  to  ?  He  gazed  long  and  intently 
upon  the  master's  face,  and  wlien  he  left  the 
hall  followed  with  a  heavy  heart,  not  ventur- 
ing to  approach  or  address  the  object  of  his 
veneration.  Thus  passed  several  days.  When 
Gustavus  was  alone,  ho  felt  quite  self-assured, 
imagined  the  most  delightful  interviews,  and 
fancied  his  desire  almost  fulfilled.  But  as 
soon  as  he  directed  his  steps  toward  the 
painter's  dwelling,  or  accidently  met  him  in 
the  gallery  or  the  walks,  his  courage  failed, 
and  he  felt  too  shy  to  intrude  himself  upon 
the  man  with  whom  ho  had  linked  all  his 
hopes  for  tlie  future.  Finally,  however, 
chance,  or  rather  that  higher  Power,  wdiich, 
unknown  to  us,  so  often  guides  our  destiny 
into  noAV  patlnvays,  came  to  his  assistance. 

One  line  morning,  Gustavus  went  to  walk 
amid  the  lofty  and  beautiful  trees  in  the 
"  Great  Park."  The  luxuriance  of  nature 
blooming  round  him,  the  freshness  of  the  fra- 
grant air,  the  clear  sunliglit  gleaming  in  a 
thousand  sparkles  through  the  quivering  leaves, 
the  warbling  of  the  birds  intoning  their  joyous 


THE  YOUNG  PAINT 


143 


liymiis  in  tlio  dcptlis  of  i]\o  groves,  all  ren- 
dered him  inexpressibly  happy.  The  fiituro 
'  lay  hopeful  and  smiling  before  him  ;  if  Master 
Roland  were  there,  lie  would  surely  have  cour- 
age to  present  his  petition.  AYhen  lo  !  as  lio 
stepped  forward  toward  a  shady  nook,  his 
eye  fell  upon  a  gentleman  sitting  on  a  bench 
alone.  IIo  was  not  mistaken,  —  it  was  the 
master.  He  was  certainly  occupied  with  some 
grand  and  beautiful  conception,  for  he  was 
gazhig  thoughtfully  before  him,  and  draAving 
figures  on  the  sand  with  the  end  of  liis  cane. 

A  slight  tremor  ran  through  Gustavus's 
every  limb,  his  blood  rushed  tumultuously 
toward  his  heart.  He  was  about  turiiir»g 
modestly  away  ;  but  no,  thought  he,  new  or 
never !  I  shall  not  have  such  another  oppor- 
tunity. IIo  stepped  softly  forward,  and,  lift- 
ing his  hat,  stood  near  the  end  of  the  bench. 
He  hoped  the  master  would  observe  and  ad- 
dress him.  In  fact,  the  slight  rustling  near 
him  had  roused  the  painter  from  his  reverie. 
He  turned  a  long  and  searching  look  upon  the 
youth,  who,  v\'ith  downcast  eyes  and  modest 
mien,  stood  before  him.    Finally,  he  asked  iix 


14i 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


a  serious,  but  by  no  moans  a  bars'!!  tone  of 
voic3,— 

"  Do  you  Yvnsli  anytiiing  fi'oni  mo  ? 

"  Yes,"  v/as  the  ahnost  inaudible  reply. 

"  If  I  do  not  mistake,  I  liave  often  seen  you 
before  in  the  picture-gallery.  You  seem  to 
place  yourself  in  my  vicinity." 

^'  I  desired  to  attract  your  observation. 
Now  I  am  fortunate  cnou^2,"b  to  venture  to 
speak  witli  you." 

"  Sit  down,  then.  Tlie  morning  is  fine. 
We  will  talk  a  little.  And,  first,  vbo  are 
yon?" 

My  name  is  Gustavus  Lraun.  I  am  a 
painter,  or,  rather,  I  desire  to  become  one." 

Aha !  now  I  see.  You  are  poor  ;  do  you 
Avisli  assistance  ?  " 

^' No,  no,"  cried  Gustavus.  "I  have  not 
much,  but  all  tliat  is  necessary.  My  wishes 
go  much  higher." 

Indeed  !  then  I  can  scarcely  aid  you." 
"  0  yes  !    You  can,  —  you  alone  !  " 

You  excite  my  curiosity.    AVhat  is  it  ?  " 
"  Suffer  mo  to  kiss  your  hand  ?  "  said  Gus- 
tavus, fairly  overcome  by  his  feelings. 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


145 


"  This  is  extraordinary  !  "  cried  Roland, 
drawing  back  tlio  hand  which  the  youth  had 
seized  and  kissed. 

■  "  I  have  seen  a  picture  of  yours.  0,  so 
beautiful!    I  have  no  words  to  express  it!" 

"  And  is  this  all  you  liave  to  say  to  me  ? " 

"  0  no  !    Mucli  more.    But  1  am  afraid  !  " 
Well,  tlicn,  I  suppose  I  am  not  to  liear." 

"  My  desire  is  so  great,  that,  Y.^ere  it  not  fuU 
filled,  I  sh.ould  be  very  unliappy." 

"  So  mucli  t!ie  more  do  I  wisli  to  know  it. 
No  one  shall  be  unhappy  i'f  1  can  prevent  it." 

"  You  wisli  to  know  it  ?  Well,  then,  I 
would  like  to  be  your  pupil." 

Tlicse  words  were  so  softly  spoken,  that  Ho- 
land  was  obliged  to  ask  a  repetition.  He 
was  greatly  astonished.  Doubting  wlietlicr  ho 
had  heard  aright,  ho  looked  up  to  the  j'outh, 
who  was  gazing  upon  him  with  suffused  and 
imploring  eyes. 

^'  This  is  indeed  quite  unexpected.  No 
pupil  until  now  has  ever  thus  introduced  him- 
rx'lf.  I  almost  think  I  shall  be  unable  to 
grant  your  r^jquest." 

"0,  that  was  what  I  feared  !  "  cried  Gus- 

13 


14G 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTLR. 


tavus,  his  eyes  fiiling  with  tears.  It  would 
liavo  been  too  much  happiness.  How  could  I 
tliink  that  so  renowned  and  great  a  man  would 
condescend  to  look  down  npon  me,  a  poor  and 
unknown  youth  !  " 

"  Young  man,  judge  for  yourself.  You  aro 
entirely  unknown  to  me.  I  am  ignorant  of 
your  parentage  and  circumstances ;  I  know 
nothing  of  your  previous  education  or  of  your 
capabilities.  How  then  caiL  I,  without  further 
information,  receive  you  as  my  pupil  ?  " 

"  May  I,  then,  tell  you  the  simple  history  of 
my  life  ?  " 

"  I  beg  you  will  do  so." 

Gustavus  told  all  ;  his  life  at  home,  his  jour- 
ney to  Breslau,  his  adventures  Avith  Feldbcrg 
and  Huber,  His  manner,  at  first  hesitating 
and  timid,  became  as  he  proceeded  lively  and 
entluisiastic.  Ho  especially  dwelt  upon  the 
fact,  that  since  his  earliest  childhood  he  had 
been  impelled  by  some  powerful  inward  pres- 
sure toward  the  art  of  painting,  and  tliat  his 
every  desire  centred  in  the  hope  of  becoming 
one  of  her  most  devotod  disciples. 

"  Thus,  then,"  said  he,  in  conclusion,  camo 


Till'.   YOUXG  PAINTER. 


147 


I  hero.  I  f^lt  that  licro,  if  anywhere,  tho  goal 
niight  bo  attained.  All  th.at  I  have  seen  ^inco 
■  my  arrival  in  this  city,  the  grand  and  tho  beau- 
tiful, liavo  only  etimnlatod  my  deeires  into  a 
quonchlcss  longing.  And  must  I  ^tand  by  tho 
living  spring,  and  not  bo  suffered  to  satisfy  my 
thirst  ?  Must  I  see  tlie  golden  apples  of  art 
hanging  before  my  eyes,  v/ithout  venturing  to 
stretch  forth  my  arm  to  pluck  them  ?  0, 
kind  sir,  have  pity  upon  mo  !  Only  bo  my 
master,  and  I  will  be  the  most  docile  and  obe- 
dient of  your  pupils  !  " 

Eoland  had  listened  with  amazement  and 
ever  increasing  sympathy  to  this  passionate 
discourse.  This  Avas  evidently  no  ordinary 
youth.  His  eyes  flashed,  and  his  checks 
glowed.  The  painter  thought  he  had  never 
seen  liner  features,  or  a  more  noble  expression 
of  countenance. 

My  dear  young  friend,"  said  he,  "  I  see 
that  you  have  at  least  a  passionate  love  for  art. 
But  that  is  not  enough." 

^-  0,  I  know,  I  know  !     You  mean  talent  ?  " 

"  Tho  word  Art  is  derived  from  roots  simii- 
fying  power,  capacity.  To  be  able  is  the  main 
thing.    What  is  it  you  can  do  ?  " 


148  THE   YOUNG  TAINTER. 


I 


"  I  foar  I  can  as  yet  do  very  little." 

"  But  the  capacity  to  do,  the  ability,  must 
exist.  1  have  made  it  a  rule  never  to  encour- 
ag3  mediocre  talent.  I  owe  this  to  my  art. 
There  are  bunglers  and  daubers  enough  in  this 
world  ;  I  shall  certainly  do  nothing  to  increase 
their  number. 

"  Then  you  think  if  I  had  talent,  real  tal- 
ent —  " 

Gustavus  left  his  sentence  unfinished.  A 
ray  of  hopeful  joy  beamed  tlirough  his  soul. 

"  Tlien,  indeed,  we  might  consider  the  mat- 
ter. My  friend,  art  is  difficult,  the  aim  is 
lofty,  and  the  way  long  and  arduous.  Thcro 
are  few,  very  few,  who  know  the  goal,  and 
have  courage  and  strength  sufficient  to  climb 
the  steep  and  narrow  path." 

"  0,  I  know  the  goal !  " 

"  Tell  it  me  then  !  " 
Raphael's  Madonna  !  "  cried  Gustavus. 

A  sudden  blush  colored  his  cheek,  and  a 
smile  played  round  the  painter's  beautiful, 
earnest  mouth. 

Indeed,"  cried  he,  "that  is  very  bold! 
And  do  you  hope  to  become  a  Raphael  ? " 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


140 


"  Alas  I  I  know  that  is  impossiblo  !  God 
has  thus  endowed  but  one  man  only  ;  but  aro 
not  the  truly  great  and  noblo  sent  upon  the 
earth  to  charm  the  eyes  and  inspire  the  hearts 
of  lesser  men  ?  " 

You  aro  right !  One  must  indeed  strive 
for  the  highest  if  one  would  pass  the  common 
bounds  and  rise  above  mediocrity.  But  the 
way,  my  friend,  —  have  you  forgotten  that  the 
way  is  long  and  steep  ?  " 

Have  you  not  just  said  that  it  was  the  part 
of  courage  to  climb  ?  " 

"  Truly,  of  steadfast,  enduring,  and  self-sac- 
rificing courage." 

"  I  pray  God  daily  to  maintain  and  increase 
it  in  me  !  " 

"  Then  you  think  you  already  possess  it  ? 
Well,  it  shall  be  put  to  the  proof!  Only  you 
must  not  thiidc  that  to  study  painting  is  to 
wander  in  a  garden  of  roses.  The  mere  paint- 
ing is  but  of  secondary  consideration  ;  practice 
alone  can  effect  but  little.  You  must  study  ; 
you  must  comprehend  the  human  soul  as  well 
as  the  human  body  ;  nature  must  be  open  to 
you,  not  only  in  her  external  phenomena,  but 

13* 


1^0  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

also  in  licr  liiddcn  spirit ;  tlic  history  of 
maiiity  and  of  tiic  arts  must  lio  before  you  as 
an  open  book.  1  niiglit  say  that  there  was  no 
sphere  of  solid  or  elevated  learning  which  tlio 
true  artist  should  not  embrace  in  the  spu-it  of 
love." 

"  0,  I  had  divined  all  tliis,"  cried  Gustavus, 
"  and  now  it  stands  wonderfully  clear  beforo 
my  soul.  For  tliat  very  reason,  my  dear  sir, 
do  I  require  a  master,  to  learn  all  ariglit,  and 
properly  to  embrace  the  whole  with  my  under- 
standing." 

"  And  now  enough,  my  dear  friend.  I  must 
tliank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  hour.  Y\q  will 
hereafter  speak  of  the  rest.  Come  to  me  tliis 
afternoon,  and  we  will  see  Avhat  can  be  done. 
Do  3^ou  know  where  I  live  ?  " 

"  0  yes,"  cried  Gustavus,  with  difficulty  re- 
pressing his  delight.  "  I  have  often  stood  for 
hours  together  before  3'our  dwelling,  without 
daring  to  enter." 

"  Wonderful  youtli  !  "  thought  Roland,  as 
he  walked  away.  Can  it  be  my  good  fortune 
to  have  liad  a  diamond  thrown  in  my  way. 
wliich,  when  polished,  will  emit  the  most  gl> 
rious  light  ?  " 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


lol 


Intoxicated  with  delight,  Gustavus  followed 
tlic  master.  He  tliouglit  he  had  finally  reached 
the  long-desired  aim.  He  felt  inwardly  con- 
vinced that  if  he  were  permitted  to  lay  before 
lloland  some  specimen  of  his  capabilities,  he 
would  not  be  rejected.  The  hours  of  the  fore- 
noon crept  slowly  on,  and,  long  before  the  ap- 
pointed time,  ho  stood  before  the  painter's 
house.  Three  o'clock  fmally  came  ;  Gustavus 
entered  with  a  beating  heart,  and  was  di- 
rected by  a  servant  to  Roland's  studio,  with 
the  information  that  ho  watj  tiierc  to  await  the 
master's  arrival. 

Ho  gazed  curiously  around.  The  studio 
was  a  largo,  cheerful,  and  tastefully  furnished 
ball,  commanding  a  view  into  a  beautiful  gar- 
den. A  number  of  young  persons  were  vari- 
om]y  employed  ;  some  ground  and  prepared 
colors;  others  were  drawing  from  casts ;  others, 
again,  were  painting  at  tlieir  easels  ;  on  the 
walls  hung  several  fine  pictures  in  handsome 
frames.  Gustavus' s  entrance  for  a  moment 
interrupted  the  busy  but  noiseless  labors  of  the 
students,  but  all  eyes  Averc  soon  again  turned 
upon  thca-  several  employments.  After  the  lapse 


152  ITIZ  rOUNG  PAINTER. 

of  a  fjw  moments  tlio  mastor  entered,  and  his 
friendly  glance  fell  at  once  upon  the  youth  vriio 
itoD'l  in  a  respectful  attitude  near  the  door. 

Ah  !  thou  here  ?  "  cried  Roland.  ^'  Thou 
hast  not  let  thyself  be  waited  for  ;  a  proof  tlr.it 
tiiou  hast  happily  overcome  thy  fear  of  me." 

This  address  sounded  so  kind  and  hearty, 
that  it  banished  every  remaining  feeling  of 
timid  anxiety  from  the  young  man's  breast. 
Ho  also  regarded  it  as  a  good  omen,  that  tho 
master  in  speaking  to  him,  instead  of  you,  cm- 
ployed  tlie  more  familiar  thou. 

"  I  already  feel  quite  sure  thou  hast  a  real 
love  and  appreciation  for  art.  But  I  vrould  also 
like  to  know  what  degree  of  skill  thou  liast 
actually  acquired,  ^youldst  thou  be  willing 
to  give  me  some  little  specimen  of  what  thou 
canst  do  ?  " 

That  is  my  most  anxious  desire  !  "  replied 
Gustavus. 

"  Canst  thou  draw  from  thine  own  head  ? 
I  mean,  canst  thou  design  a  little  group  Avitli- 
out  having  any  pattern  ?  " 

"  If  the  exercise  be  not  too  difficult,  I  will 
try.'' 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


153 


Roland  thought  a  moment. 

"  Come,"  said  ho,  "  sketch  tlie  scene  cf  cm- 
meeting  in  the  great  park  this  mornir.g.  Onl / 
a  rapid  sketcli  !    Nothing  fmished  I  " 

Gustavus  trembled  with  delight.  Aided  ly 
his  excellent  memory  and  his  lively  imagi:ia- 
tion,  he  had  always  been  most  successful  in  liis 
portraiture  of  human  countenances,  lie  cast 
a  long  and  stoady  glance  upon  Roland's  face, 
and  then  moved  onward  to  the  designated 
place,  where  he  found  paper  and  the  necessary 
drawing  materials.  lie  chose  the  moment 
when  liD  found  Roland  sitting  on  the  bench, 
lost  in  thought,  and  Avlien,  Avitli  imploring 
mien  he  first  approached  him.  The  master, 
meanwhile,  Avent  to  liis  easel,  standing  near  a 
window,  wdiere,  with  a  steady  hand  he  Avorked 
upon  a  large  painting. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  half-Iiour,  Gustavus  cried 
out,  — 

"  I  am  ready  now  !  " 
Let  us  see  then  !    I  am  really  quite  curi- 
ous to  know  how  thou  hast  succeeded  !  " 

So  sayhig,  Roland  took  the  paper,  and 
scarcely  hxlit  met  his  view,  when  diis^  o/)untc- 


154 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTER. 


nance  assumed  an  expression  of  the  greatest 
astonishment. 

*' Great  Heaven!"  he  cried,  "this  is  well, 
very  well  done !  What  excellent  likenesses ! 
AVhat  firmness !  iVnd  how  beautifully  tl:o 
whole  is  managed !  This  is  far  more  than  I 
expected !  " 

Gustavus's  delight  at  these  words  was  so 
great,  that  bright  tears  rolled  down  over  his 
cheeks.  At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and 
an  old  gentleman  of  dignified  exterior,  hut 
friendly  countenance,  entered.  It  was  Count 
Sommerfeld,  who  thought  he  could  not  better 
employ  his  large  property  than  by  encouraging 
true  art  and  assisting  worthy  artists.  He  was 
very  intimate  ^vith  Roland,  and  often  visited 
his  studio  to  enjoy  the  beautiful  pictures,  and 
the  master's  intellectual  conversation. 

"  Come  here.  Count !  "  cried  Roland,  "  hero 
is  something  really  extraordinary.  Do  yon  sec 
that  youth,  still  half  a  boy  !  He  accosted  mo, 
while  I  was  taking  my  morning  walk,  with  tlio 
request  tliat  I  would  be  his  master.  Of  course 
I  tliought  that  very  strange,  and  probed  him 
severely.    But  he  stood  the  trial  bravely.  I 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


loo 


bado  liim  como  to  mo  this  afternoon,  and  liavo 
jiift  given  him  a  subject  to  try  liis  powers. 
Look,  the  picture  speaks  for  itself!  " 

The  Count  gazed  sympathizingly  upon  the 
httlc  group,  and  then  said :  And  what  will 
you  do,  my  good  friend  ?  The  petition  set 
forth  by  this  picture  seems  to  me  so  eloquently 
expressed  that  you  cannot  well  refuse  it." 

"  Indeed !  What  will  I  do  ?  If  I  do  not 
take  him,  ho  will  go  straiglit  to  some  other 
master,  and  I  shall  lose  the  pleasure  of  for 
once  cultivating  a  real  talent !  " 

"Agreed,  then!"  said  the  Count.  "You 
must  koep  the  youth,  whose  face  besides  pleases 
mo  greatly.  But  you  must  also  leave  me  a 
share  in  3^our  good  vrork.  I  v/ill  prove  him 
further,  and  seo  what  I  can  do  for  liim." 

This  short  conversation  was  held  in  the  re- 
cess of  a  vrindow,  at  a  littlo  distance  from, 
vrhcre  Gustavus  stood.  When  it  was  conclud- 
ed, Roland  approached  the  youth  and  said,  — 

Thy  desire  shall  bo  fuliilled  ;  1  liave  decid- 
ed to  receive  theo  as  my  pupil.  Thou  must 
find  thoo  a  room  in  my  neighborhood,  and  como 
to  me  every  morning  at  seven  o'clock.  Of  the 
rest,  we  will  speak  hereafter." 


156 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


GustaTus  had  no  Trords  to  express  his  grati- 
tiido  and  joy ;  ho  couLl  only  scizo  tlio  master's 
hand  and  forvontlj  press  it  to  his  hps.  II3 
then  liastencd  to  his  own  dwelling.  His  first 
impulse  tliero  was  to  Ml  upon  his  knees  and 
tliank  God  for  all  the  happiness  he  had  sent 
him ;  his  second,  to  draw  forth  his  beloved 
locket,  and  in  silent  communion  with  his  mot!i- 
cr's  image,  confide  to  her  all  that  had  hap- 
pened. When  he  became  more  quiet,  lie 
poured  forth  his  joy  in  two  letters  which  were 
severally  despatched  to  his  foster-father,  Braun, 
and  his  recent  master,  Huber.  . 

In  fact,  no  life  could  be  better  or  happier  for 
our  Gustavus  than  that  which  he  led  under 
the  guidance  of  the  painter  Roland.  The  latter 
was  an  artist  in  tlio  fullest  sense  of  the  word, 
quiet,  sensible,  and  full  of  deep  and  creativo 
enthusiasm  for  his  art.  His  instructions,  cc- 
pecially  the  conversations  into  which  he  fre- 
quently entered  with  his  pupils,  were  in  the 
highest  degree  useful  and  inspiring,  and  made, 
upon  Gustavus,  who  eagerly  caught  every  word, 
tlio  deepest  impression.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if 
a  veil  had  suddenly  been  withdrawn  from  man/ 


THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER.  157 

mysteries  which  lie  had  half  divined,  but  whoso 
causes  and  principles  he  had  been  iinablo  to 
discover.  The  best  understanding  also  subsist- 
ed between  Gustavus  and  his  fellow-students ; 
as  tlicy  all  united  in  love  and  veneration  toward 
their  master,  they  Avere  all  good  friends,  and 
the  young  man,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  en- 
joyed the  pleasure  of  association  with  persons 
of  his  own  age,  engaged  in  similar  pursuits. 

It  Avas  especially  fortunate  for  him  that  ho 
had  won  the  regard  of  Count  Sommerfcld. 
When  tliat  nobleman  visited  the  studio,  he  fre- 
quently conversed  with  Gustavus,  questioned 
him  with  regard  to  his  past  life,  and  criticised 
I  his  efforts.  He  also  permitted  him  the  use  of 
his  fine  picture-gallery  and  excellent  library. 
The  old  man  soon  observed  that  the  youth  was 
lacking  in  general  cultivation,  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  many  branches  of  learning  indispensa- 
ble to  his  career  as  an  artist.  One  day  he  said 
to  him, — 

"  Gustavus,  dost  thou  know  what,  after  vh'- 
tue,  chiefly  adorns  every  man,  especially  every 
artist?" 

"  I  think,  modesty  !  "  replied  the  youth, 
u 


158  THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 


Tliat,  too !    13nt  tliat  is  not  wliat  I  inoa: 
I  a:n  thinking  of  somotliiiig  thou  dost  not 

J2t  possess." 

Gustavus  looked  np  inquiringlj  into  t!i 
man's  face. 

"  Thou  liast  told  mo  thou  hast  novor  boon  at 
any  cxcopt  a  village  school." 

"  Alas  !  it  is  indeed  so." 
Tlie  consequence  of  whic-i  is,  t]iat  thou  art 
quite  ignorant." 

"  I  wisli  1  could  deny  it," 

"  Tliou  must  no  longer  remain  so.  Dost 
thou  desire  to  become  a  real,  a  genuine  art- 
ist ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  mos*  earnest  desire." 

"  Thou  knowest  well  that  more  is  required 
than  a  happy  talent  and  a  pkilful  hand.  These 
are  both  necessary  to  procbjce  excellence,  but 
tliey  will  not  alone  suffice  to  create  works  which 
shall  elevate  as  well  as  delight  the  contemporary 
world,  and  hereafter  stand  a?  landmarks  fir 
above  tlie  levelling  stream  of  tiin-^.  A  spirit, 
my  son,  is  needful,  whicli,  nourished  by  every 
noble  science,  shall  be  able  with  cer'^^ainty  to 
decide  upon  t!io  true,  the  good,  and  the  beau- 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


15a 


tiful.  Now,  canst  thou  not  tell  me  what  most 
adonis  an  artist  ? 

"  Ah  yes  !  "  sighed  Gustavus,  "  knowledge  ! 
And  that  I  have  not." 

"  Thou  art  right !  Knowledge  !  A  knowl- 
cdg3  which  shall  on  every  side  cultivate  t!io 
mind  and  the  heart.  I  do  not  mean  that  it  is 
necessary  for  the  artist  to  be  a  professed  man 
of  science,  but  he  must  be  sufficiently  familiar 
with  the  whole  range  of  human  learning  to  bo 
able  to  draw  forth  the  gold  and  the  silver  for 
his  own  art.  Thinkest  thou,  thou  could^t  bo 
a  reasonable  landscape  painter  without  an  ac- 
curate knowledge  of  nature  ?  Couldst  thou 
succeed  in  a  historical  picture  without  a  true 
insight  into  the  spirit  of  past  ages  ?  " 

"Then  I  can  never  be  a  true  artist!"  said 
Gustavus,  with  a  heavy  heart. 

"  Thou  must  make  up  all  that  is  lacking  to 
thee." 

I  would  cheerfully  do  so  !  But  you  forget, 
Count,  that  I  am  poor." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  that.  I  will  procure 
thee  masters,  and  Roland  will  spare  thee  the 
necessary  time.    The  chief  and  the  best  part 


IGO 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


deponds  upon  thyself  alone  ;  namely,  the  inter- 
est, desire,  and  industry  witli  which  thou  wilt 
dovote  thyself  to  serious  study.'* 

And  tluis  it  was.  The  good  Count  procured 
for  Gustavus  the  best  masters,  and  tlic  youth 
devoted  each  day  several  hours  to  tlic  study  of 
history,  natural  science,  and  modern  languages. 
An  eager  desire  to  learn,  and  great  quickness 
of  mind,  gave  him  great  advantages,  and  ho 
made  rapid  progress  in  every  branch. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHO  ARE  MY  TARENTS  ? 

Thus,  amid  tlio  most  fortunato  and  agrccablo 
circumstances,  did  our  Gustavus  pass  two  happy 
years.  If  wo  have  succeeded  in  conveying  any 
just  idea  of  the  young  man's  extraordinary  ca- 
pacities and  genuine  love  for  art,  our  readers  will 
not  be  surprised  to  learn,  that  under  the  guid- 
ance of  so  eminent  a  master  as  Roland,  aided 
by  the  spiritual  encouragement  and  assistance 
of  the  excellent  Count,  and  surrounded  by  all 
the  treasures  of  art,  and  the  ever-living  intel- 
lectual activity  of  the  art-loving  city,  he  had 
become  a  distinguished  artist.  Having  taken 
the  prize  at  an  exhibition  of  the  Academy  of  the 
Fine  Arts,  his  pictures  being  remarkable  not 
only  for  their  admirable  execution,  but  also  for 
their  spirited  conceptipu  an(i  deep  signilicaucc, 


1G2 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


his  iiamo  was  already  pronounced  witli  respect. 
In  addition  to  this,  the  clegaiice  and  beauty  of 
his  youthful  figure,  tlie  noble  simplicity  of  his 
manners,  and  his  finely  cultivated  intellect, 
gained  him  tlio  love  of  many,  as  well  as  a.i 
entrance  into  the  higher  ranks  of  £.ociety. 

Roland,  at  the  end  of  two  years,  had  declared 
that  Gustavus  could  no  longer  be  his  pupil ; 
he  must  now  pursue  the  paths  of  art  supported 
by  liis  own  powers,  and  relying  upon  his  own 
genius.  The  young  man  found  the  needful 
l)ecuniary  support,  partially  in  a  small  pension 
from  the  government,  procured  for  him  by  tho 
Count,  and  partially  through  the  sale  of  his 
paintings,  which  vrerc  much  prized  and  sought 
after.  He  already  began  to  dream  of  a  joui> 
ncy  through  the  cradle  of  the  arts,  the  dream- 
land of  every  artist,  beautiful  and  soul-entran- 
cing Italy. 

The  older  GustaA'us  grew,  the  more  frequent- 
ly and  earnestly  did  the  question  force  itself 
upon  him :  Who  am  I  ?  The  mystery  en- 
shrouding his  birth,  which  he  had  long,  by  a 
thousand  suppositions  striven  to  penetrate, 
luuig  above  liis  life  like- a  ^ark  cloud,  and  ever 


THE   YOUNG  TAINTER. 


1G3 


allured  the  working  of  his  restless  imagination, 
continually  adding  new  fancies  to  the  old. 
Were  his  parents  still  living  ?  Who,  and 
where  were  they  ?  How  could  he  Avin  an  an- 
swer to  this  important  question  ?  lie  could 
fnid  no  clow  to  the  labyrinth.  His  secret  Avas 
to  him  so  sacred  and  holy  that  he  had  hitherto 
silently  concealed  it  in  his  own  bosom,  and 
had  confided  it  to  no  one,  not  even  to  his  dear 
Count. 

To  ease  a  little  his  restlessly  beating  heart, 
he  determined  to  select  the  wild  battle-scene 
with  which,  when  a  little  child,  his  fate  had 
been  entangled,  as  the  subject  of  a  largo  pic- 
ture. His  lively  imagination  was  busied  in 
bringing  together  all  that  it  had  presented  to 
him  as  possible,  or  probable.  His  reasoning 
was  nearly  as  follows  :  A  baby,  sucli  as  I  then 
was,  could  scarcely  have  been  found  in  such  a 
fearful  scene,  unless  its  mother  had  been 
near.  But  what  could  have  induced  her,  a 
delicate  woman,  to  place  herself  and  lier  child 
amid  the  dangers  of  a  battle-field  ?  She  ccr- 
taiidy  must  have  been  the  wife  of  a  French, 
officer,  and  her  love  for  him  must  have  im- 


IGl 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


pcllocl  licr  to  follow  liim  at  a  diort  distance 
from  tlio  army.  Sho  probably  doomed  tho 
uiifortiinato  issiio  of  tho  battlo  impossiblo,  and 
thus  found  herself  overwhelmed  by  the  confu- 
sion of  the  flight.  In  the  tumult,  her  carriage 
was  overturned  and  tlirown  into  a  ditch,  whence 
sho  was  deprived  of  all  means  of  proceeding 
furtlier.  But  how  had  she  boon  separated 
from  her  child  ?  Must  not  one  surely  think 
sho  would  have  died  with  him  rather  than 
forsake  him  ?  This  fact  seemed  explicable 
only  by  the  supposition  of  the  presence  of  some 
more  powerful  affection.  The  place  where  tho 
carriage  was  found  had  evidently  been  tho 
scene  of  a  fierce  struggle  between  the  flying 
and  their  pursuers.  And  might  not  his 
mother's  husband,  his  father,  have  been 
among  tho  former  ?  She  became  aware  of  his 
presence,  saw  him  wounded  before  her  very 
eyes  ;  in  the  agony  of  mortal  anguish  sho 
rushed  toward  him,  forgetting  the  child  which 
lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  carriage. 

Here,  however,  ended  all  his  suppositions. 
IIow  his  mother  had  quitted  tho  battle-field, 
why  she  had  not  returned  for  her  child,  and 


THE  TOUNG  PAINTER. 


1G5 


what  had  boon  her  Eiibscquciit  history,  ^Yoro 
facts  lost  in  the  impenetrable  darknesG  of  the 
niystcrious  past. 

From  the  above  data,  Gustavus  designed  Iris 
picture.  The  conception  was  bold,  and  in  tlio 
broadest  style.  A  horrible  confusion  of  Freiic]! 
and  Prussian  troops  ;  on  tlic  faces  of  the  com- 
batants on  either  side,  heroic  determination 
and  despairing  rage,  or  overwhelming  courage 
and  the  joy  of  victory ;  scattered  between, 
rearing  horses,  broken  cannon,  wounded  and 
dying  men  ;  in  the  foreground,  a  Frencli 
officer  of  lofty  and  noble  stature  sinking 
Avounded  from  his  battle-steed,  while  a  young 
and  beautiful  woman,  —  wonderfully  like  the 
picture  in  the  locket,  —  rushing  forward,  with 
love  and  horror  in  her  face,  seizes  him  in  her 
arms,  —  were  the  most  prominent  objects  in 
the  composition.  A  little  to  one  side  was  the 
broken  carriage,  and  in  it  the  child,  whose 
peaceful  slumber  and  angelic  innocence  pre- 
sented an  indescribable  contrast  to  the  fearfid 
scene  surrounding  it.  Over  all  floated  the 
misty  atmosphere,  the  melancholy  gray  of  a 
late  autumn  evening. 


IGG 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


Tin  pictur3  Avas  fiiiislioJ.  Gustaviis  had 
paiiitod  it  with  all  tlio  stroiigtli  of  lovo  and 
corrow  within  liis  soul.  He  was  almost  £uro 
tliat  it  rcprcsciitod  a  portion  of  his  own  histoiy, 
and  thonco  was  it  especially  dear  to  him.  Il3 
also  thought  it  nearer  to  the  high  ideal  he  haci 
ever  before  him  than  any  of  his  prcvioua 
Avorks.  He  had  long  wished  to  present  somD 
faint  token  of  his  gratitude  to  the  good  Count, 
to  whose  fatherly  affection  he  was  indebted  for 
so  large  a  portion  of  his  present  happiness. 
AVhat  if  he  were  to  beg  him  to  receive  tho 
picture  as  a  gift  ?  A  suitable  opportunity  was 
near  at  hand  ;  in  a  few  days  the  Count  would 
celebrate  his  birthday.  lie  could  at  the  samo 
time  confide  to  him  the  mysterious  circum- 
stances of  his  own  childhood,  for  he  had  deter- 
mined no  longer  to  conceal  tlicm  from  so  kind 
a  friend.  The  thouglit  of  seeing  his  favorite 
picture  in  the  hands  of  his  beloved  benefactor 
filled  him  with  such  delight,  that  he  looked 
forward  with  longing  expectation  to  the  arrival 
of  the  happy  day. 

The  birthday  came.  Gustavus  had  the  pic- 
ture taken  to  the  Count's  palace,  and  hung  la 


THE  TOUXG  PAINTER. 


1G7 


one  of  tho  lower  rooms.  lie  then  went  up  to 
tli3  Count's  chamber,  wlierc  lie  met  with  tlio 
usual  cordial  reception,  and  where,  in  a  few 
heartfelt  words,  he  offered  liis  congratulations 
and  wishes  for  future  liappiness. 

"  Thou  wishest  mo  liappiness,"  said  tlie  old 
man.  "  But  thou  forgettest  tliat  I  am  to-day 
seventy  years  old.  What  the  world  calls  hai> 
piness  no  longer  exists  for  so  aged  a  man. 
We  live  alone  in  the  past  and  in  the  future. 
Memory  and  hope  fdl  our  being.  Happy  is  ho 
whose  memories  are  peaceful  and  whose  hopes 
are  joyful.  AVe  must  at  every  moment  be  pre- 
pared to  lay-  down  the  staff  at  that  shadowy 
bourne  dividing  this  world  from  tlie  next." 

"  No,  no,"  cried  Gustavus,  deeply  moved. 
"  The  sun  of  your  life  will  long  shine  in  tlio 
heaven  whence  it  has  so  mildly  and  blessedly 
beamed  upon  my  days." 

^'  We  will  leave  that  to  a  higher  power  ;  let 
us  now  speak  of  thee.  It  is  one  of  the  greatest 
pleasures  of  age  to  find  itself  renewed  in  t!io 
blooming  youth  of  others,  and  to  Avatch  a  de- 
velopment so  liiie,  and  yet  in  many  things  so 
unlike  its  own.    The  mysterious  dispensations 


1C8  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

of  Providence  have,  alas  !  deprived  mo  of 
pleasure  of  thus  following  the  growth  of  my  own 
sons  and  grandsons.  So  much  the  more  happy 
am  I  to  have  found  in  thee  a  consolation  for  my 
declining  days.  I  have  regarded  thy  progress 
v/ith  the  greatest  delight.  Thy  life  has  indeed 
been  as  the  flight  of  the  young  eagle  toward 
the  sun,  and  I  rejoice  that  it  has  been  in  my 
power  somewhat  to  strengthen  thy  wings." 

"  And  I  would  willingly  show  my  gratitude. 
Eut  how  can  1,  when  I  have  nothing  but  my 
good-will,  and  all  I  could  possibly  do  would 
still  fall  so  far  behind  your  kindness  ?  And 
yet  I  liave  made  a  sliglit  attempt.  I  have  fin- 
ished a  small  work,  and  it  would  give  me  great 
pleasure  if  you  would  receive  it  in  token  of  my 
boundless  love  and  gratitude." 

"  What !  A  picture  ?  I  like  that !  I  will 
receive  it  with  pleasure.    Where  is  it  ?  " 

"  In  one  of  the  lower  rooms.  May  I  ask  you 
to  go  down  vfitli  nic  ?  " 

At  that  moment  a  side  door  opened,  and  a 
noble  lookip.g  lady  entered.  Although  no 
longer  young,  —  for  she  was  apparently  about 
forty, — she  still  bore  the  traces  of  great  beauty. 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


Her  countcnanco  was  lovely  but  pale,  and  a 
close  observer  could  not  fail  to  perceive  traces 
of  sorrow  and  suffering  left  upon  it  by  severe 
struggles  and  trials.  Her  eyes  possessed  un- 
common gentleness  and  tenderness,  and  their 
expression  became  still  more  beautiful  as  they 
turned  upon  the  old  man  a  smiling  glance  of 
inexpressible  affection. 

f  "Ah!  thou  art  just  in  time!''  cried  the 
Count.  "  Dear  Gustavus,  that  is  my  daugliter, 
the  widowed  Baroness  von  Adlersberg.  Even 
the  long  distance  from  her  estates  to  Dresden 
could  not  prevent  her  coming  to  surprise  mo 
witli  her  good  wishes  on  my  birthday.  My 
dear  daugliter,  this  is  the  young  painter,  Gus- 
tavus Braun,  of  Avhom  I  have  already  spoken 
to  you." 

The  lady  kindly  offered  the  young  man  her 
hand.  "  My  father  has  told  me  mucli  good  of 
)'ou,  and  I  am  the  more  rejoiced  to  have  met 

you." 

Thus  saying,  her  eyes  rested  long  and  search- 
ingly  upon  the  youth's  countenance,  and  some 
dark  cloud  seemed  to  dim  her  beautiful  eyes. 

"  Well,  you  will  soon  learn  to  know  each 

15 


170  THE  YOUNG  rAIXTEK, 

other  boitcr  !  "  raid  llio  Count.  "  And  now  lot 
iio  vp.  Gustavus  lias  prepared  a  surprise  for 
mo.  A  picture  awaits  us  that  "sve  must  see  at 
once." 

They  vrcnt.  Gustavus  felt  strangely  moved, 
lie  knew  that  the  Count  had  a  daugliter  Vvho 
lod  a  lonely  and  retired  life  upon  her  ovrn  c:- 
tates,  but  he  had  heard  nothing  of  her  arrival, 
which  had  only  taken  place  the  CA'cning  bcforo. 
He  found  it  impossible  to  account  for  the  sin- 
gular sensations  wliich  the  sight  of  her  had 
awakened  within  him.  They  reached  the  hall, 
and  stood  before  the  picture  which  had  been 
hung  in  an  excellent  light,  but  was  still  cov- 
ered with  a  heavy  curtain.  Vnth  a  trembling 
hand  the  young  man  tore  away  the  veil,  and 
the  battle-scene  stood  before  them  in  all  its 
fearful  truth. 

But  how  utterly  indescribable  was  tlie  im- 
pression it  made  upon  the  beholders.  The 
Count  seemed  totally  bewildered,  and  tho 
Baroness  stared  with  a  look  of  unuttcrabb 
horror  upon  the  picture.  She  became  deathly 
pale.  Her  eyes  seemed  starting  from  their 
sockets,  her  limbs  trembled,  and  her  form  bent 
breathlessly  forward. 


THE  TOUXG  rAIXTER. 


171 


"For  God's  sake,"  cried  she  at  length,  "  what 
does  tliat  picture  mean  ?  " 

"  It  represents  a  scene  at  the  last  battle  of 
Loipsic,"  replied  Gustavus. 

"  Lcipsic  I  "  repeated  tlio  Baroness,  in  faint 
tones.  The  shock  was  too  great.  Her  strength 
failed  and  her  consciousness  fled.  Her  father 
and  Gustavus  were  obliged  to  support  and  lead 
her  to  a  seat. 

"In  the  name  of  Eternal  Love!  "  cried  tho 
Count.    "  Gustavus,  explain  !  explain  I  " 

"  What  I  have  here  represented  I  learned 
from  my  father, "  replied  Gustavus,  trembling, 
and  pale  as  deat]i. 

"  How !  From  thy  father  ?  I  do  not  un- 
derstand—  " 

"  'My  father  was  a  Prussian  soldier  in  the 
battle  of  Leipsic." 

"  But  the  child  !  the  child  !  "  cried  the  Bar- 
oness, wlio  had  now  recovered  from  her  mo- 
mentary faintness. 

"  The  child  was  carried  from  t]io  battle-field 
by  my  father." 

Like  a  sudden  flash,  these  words  penetrated 
the  Baroness's  every  nerve.    She  rose,  seized 


172 


THE  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


tlio  3'outli's  shoulders  witli  both  licr  hands,  and 
in  heart-breaking  tones  cried  out:  — 

''And  it  lives?  it  live^  ?  —  no,  do  not  an- 
swer !  It  Avould  kill  mo  were  you  to  say  no  !  — 
Great  God  !  you  make  no  reply ;  —  does  Vao 
child  then  live  ?  " 

"  It  lives,"  replied  Gustavus,  who  now  could 
witli  difficulty  master  tlic  ijtorm  of  feeling  with- 
in his  own  bosom. 

The  Baroness  sank  upon  her  fatlier's  breast. 
"It  lives!  it  lives!"  she  repeated  softly,  but 
with  almost  superhuman  joy.  But  where  ? 
wliero  ?  "  cried  she,  again  turning  to  the  youth. 
"  Where  is  my  son  ?  " 

"  Here,  at  your  feet !  "  exclaimed  Gustavus, 
embracing,  with  unutterable  rapture,  the  knees 
of  his  finally  found  mother. 

No  ;  joy  does  not  kill.  Else  would  tlie  Bar- 
oness surely  have  fallen  a  victim  to  tlie  violenco 
of  her  emotions.  But  God  who  had  just  sliown 
his  marvellous  providence  and  his  wondrous 
guidance  of  events,  gave  her  strengtli  to  resist 
t!icir  overwhelming  power.  She  sank  on  licr 
knees  before  Gustavus,  flung  her  arms  around 
him,  buried  her  face  in  his  curls,  and  gave  vent 


TnE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


173 


to  her  feelings  in  unrestrained  sobs  and  tears. 
The  old  man  stood  near,  laid  his  liands  ca- 
ressingly upon  tlio  heads  of  his  daughter  and 
his  grandson,  and  lifting  his  eyes  to  lieaven 
said  :  "  My  God  !  On  this  day  hast  tliou  blest 
mo  unutterably !  " 

The  Baroness  had  no  strength  to  rise.  Gus- 
tavus  joyfully  took  her  in  his  arms  and  gently 
laid  her  upon  a  sofa.  Ho  knelt  near,  and 
drawing  the  locket  from  his  bosom,  opened  it 
and  said  :  "  Do  you  kno^y  this  picture  ?  " 

"  Great  God  !  "  she  cried,  "  that  is  tlio  locket 
j  I  hung  upon  thy  neck  the  very  day  on  which 
thou  wort  first  dcpriyed  of  thy  mother's  care." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  dear  jewel  which  has  again 
united  me  to  my  beloved  mother.  0  my  moth- 
er, for  how  much  must  I  not  thank  this  picture  ! 
It  has  been  the  talisman  wliich  has  protected 
mo  in  peril,  encouraged  mo  in  every  struggle, 
and  incited  mo  to  press  ever  omvard  toward  a 
higher  goal.  God  told  mo  it  was  my  mother. 
I  never  doubted  it  for  one  moment.  0, 1  knew 
you  long  before  this  meeting !  You  may  now 
j  understand  how  I  came  to  represent  you  so  ac- 
curately in  my  picture.'.' 

15* 


174 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


"  Yes,  T  ceo ;  wliilo  ztWl  unknown  to  cac 
ot]icr,  tin  powor  of  lovo  lias  inystcrioudy 
watched  over  and  l^etween  iis.  I  ako  am  con- 
scious of  no  moment  in  whicli  I  have  not 
thouglit  of  tlicc,  but  in  fact,  chiefly  tliat  I 
miglit  become  accustomed  to  seek  thee  only 
amoni^  the  angels  in  heaven.  Ah,  my  son, 
the  toars  I  have  shed  for  thee  and  tliy  dear 
father  are  more  than  could  be  counted !  " 

"  And  my  father  ?  "  asked  Gustavus,  with  a 
dight  tremor  in  his  voice. 

"  0,  tliat  ho  were  among  us  to  enjoy  this  day! 
Eut  he  is  looking  down  upon  us  from  tlic  hab- 
itations of  peace.  He  is  no  more.  The  day  on 
Avliich  I  lost  thee,  cost  him  his  life. 

The  Baroness  wept.  Gustavus  sought  to 
console  her,  and  fervently  covered  her  hand 
witli  the  most  tender  kisses. 

^'  My  clilldren,"  said  the  Count,  "  not  now 
Lhesc  sad  remembrances ;  tlie  joy  of  the  pres- 
ent is  so  great  that  we  would  be  ungrateful 
were  we  only  to  think  how  we  could  still  in- 
crease our  happiness.  We  are  all  too  deeply 
moved.  Without,  in  the  fresh  air,  under  tho 
green  trees,  wo  will  foci  more  coioposod.  Guo- 


THE  YOUNG  PAIXTKR, 


175 


tavus  sliall  tlicrc  rclato  to  r.s  all  the  occurren- 
ces, great  and  small,  of  his  eveiitrul  life.  You 
will  tlicnco  sec,  my  beloved  daugliter,  lliat  thou 
hast  not  only  found  a  son,  but  a  -worthy,  cncr- 
ptic,  upright,  and  noble  son !  " 

Thoy  went  into  Vaq  garden,  the  mother  loan- 
ing on  Gustavus's  arm.  There,  by  turns  vralk- 
ing  in  the  sliadow  of  t]ie  lofty  chestnuts,  cr 
sitting  on  the  garden  seats,  ihcy  suffered  their 
most  cherished  memories  to  flow  forth  in  the 
full  stream  cf  love  and  heartfelt  confidence. 
Gustavus  related  the  story  of  his  life,  and  tlie 
warmth  Avith  wdiich  he  spoke  of  his  benefactors, 
the  lionest  Braun,  the  upriglit  Iluber,  and  the 
noblo  Roland,  showed  that  happiness  had  only 
elevated  and  ennobled  the  best  feelings  cf  his 
soul.  We  may  imagine  liovr  attentively  the 
mother  listened.  With  the  utmost  tenderness 
she  hung  upon  his  every  vrord,  now  interrupt- 
ing him  with  loving  questions,  now  caressingly 
stroking  his  handsome  head,  tlien  kissing  him 
vrith  lier  soul  upon  her  lips,  and  then  again 
sliedding  tears  of  fervent  gratitude  and  jov. 
Could  one  imaij^inc  a  hiixher  deliii'ht  for  a  moth- 
or,  than  thus  to  see  unfolded  before  her  eyes 


17G  THE  YOUNG  TAIXTER. 

the  l)looniing  and  liopcful  life  of  a  co:i  wli 
sli3  liad  long  wept  as  dead,  and  v/lio  v/a; 
restored  to  licr  loving  arms  ? 

The  news  of  tlie  wonderful  event  whicli  had 
taken  -place  in  the  Count's  palace  ran  llkd 
llghtnhig  through  tlie  whole  city.  The  in- 
timate friends  of  the  family  came  to  learn 
the  truth,  and  to  offer  tlieir  congratulations. 
Gustavus,  now  Baron  von  Adlersbcrg,  and 
heir  to  a  large  property,  was  tlie  hero  of  th3 
day.  Many  had  previously  admired  liis  genius; 
to  this  Avas  novf  added  tlie  lustre  of  a  distin- 
guished name  and  groat  wealth. 

Among  the  rest  came  Roland.  The  Count 
had  previously  sent  him  a  sum  of  a  thousand 
dollars  to  be  divided  among  sucli  young  artists 
as  he  should  think  most  deserving.  Tho 
painter  came  to  thank  him.  He  was  received 
witli  open  arms.  After  heartily  embracing 
Gustavus,  he  took  him  aside,  and  said, — 

How  is  it  ?  Will  you  now  turn  your 
back  on  tliat  art  Avhich  3^ou  have  to  thank 
for  a  great  barony  and  a  happy  home  ?  " 

*'  No,  indeed ! "  replied  the  young  man. 
"  That  would  be   the   blackest  hi<?ratitudo ! 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


177 


On  the  contrary,  I  will  licnccfortli  bo  only 
£0  much  tho  moro  her  grateful  and  devoted 
ATOrsliippcr." 

"  That  is  right,"  said  Roland,  "  that  is  just 
what  I  expected.  Believe  me,  art  is  still  luorCJi 
more  than  a  title  and  a  full  purse  !  " 

"  I  know  that !  "  cried  Gustavus.  They 
cordially  pressed  each  other's  hands.  They 
had  mutually  understood  each  other's  souls. 

In  the  evening,  when  the  happy  trio  again 
found  themselves  alone  together,  Gustavus 
caid :  "  Now,  dear  mother,  grant  my  prayer, 
and  tell  me  all  the  circumstances  that  have 
caused  our  lives  to  be  so  sadly  and  strangely 
sundered." 

"Alas,  my  son,  it  is  a  melancholy  history  I 
But  thou  art  riglit ;  thou  shalt  hear  all.  Wo 
shall  feel  freer  and  easier  when  wo  have  once 
looked  the  dark  past  steadily  in  the  face." 

The  Baroness  leaned  back  a  few  moments 
on  her  sofa,  as  if  to  recover  her  self-possession ; 
Gustavus  sat  on  a  stool  at  her  feet,  and  a  little 
apart  t!ie  old  man  had  fallen  asleep  in  his 
arm-chair. 

"  It  was,"  began  the  Baroness,  "  during  tho 


178 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


year  1811  that  I  first  learned  to  know  thy 
father,  the  Baron  von  Adlcrsbcrg.  IIo  liad 
been  sent  to  oii^r  court  in  Dresden  by  the  King 
of  Westphalia.  His  handsome  person,  noble 
licart,  and  cultivated  mind  attracted  me  to- 
Avard  him.  Our  love  was  mutual,  and,  with 
my  father's  consent,  I  became  his  wife." 

"  Do  you  know,  dear  mother,  that  I  am  do- 
lighted  to  learn  that  my  father  Avas  a  nativo 
of  the  country  in  which  I  have  had  my  own 
growth  'and  education.  I  should  feel  really 
sorry  to  be  forced  to  regard  any  other  land 
as  my  fatlierland,  or  to  bear  a  foreign  name. 
My  foster-father  and  I  both  thought  I  must 
be  the  son  of  a  French  officer." 

"No,  my  son,  tliy  father  was  a  German; 
but  like  many  of  his  countrymen,  he  rever- 
enced the  rising  star  of  the  great  Emperor 
wliose  powerful  genius  at  that  time  swayed 
tlie  destinies  of  Europe.  He  had  already  ac- 
companied Napoleon  through  several  victori- 
ous campaigns,  and  had  risen  to  the  rank  of 
a  colonel.  Ilis  knowledge  and  ability  had 
rendered  his  offices  necessary  in  the  adjust- 
ment of  tlio  kingdom  cf  AVestphalia,  and  he 


TIIK  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


179 


liad  boon  tomporarilj  witliclrawu  from  active 
Gcrvico.  During  that  timo  1  became  his  Avifo  ; 
■Nvo  lived  at  Casiicl ;  one  happy  year  quickly 
passed ;  thy  birth  filled  us  both  with  unspcak- 
abb  joy  ;  we  were  so  lost  in  our  own  happi- 
ness, that  wo  did  not  see  the  clouds  gathering 
upon  our  horizon.  The  destruction  of  the 
great  French  army  in  Russia  soon  followed ; 
Germany  and  half  the  world  again  lifted  their 
heads  and  reasserted  their  independence. 
There  was  an  immediate  and  extraordinary 
call  to  arms  ;  my  husband,  among  the  rat, 
was  forced  to  resume  the  svrord.  AYe  parted  ; 
I,  with  a  bleeding  and  ill-divining  heart,  re- 
mained behind.  The  struggle  raged  on,  tlio 
fiercest  struggle  known  to  modern  times.  At 
first  came  news  of  victory  ;  by  degrees  the 
bulletins  became  loss  and  loss  hopeful.  The 
French  army  Avas  driven  nearer  and  nearer 
to  Saxony ;  my  husband's  letters  ceased  to 
reach  me.  I  was  in  despair.  Had  he  been 
wounded  ?  Was  ho  dead  ?  I  knew  not ;  I 
could  not  fly  to  him  to  watch  over  him  if 
living;  or  if  dead,  to  weep  beside  his  graA-e. 
Finally  a  letter  came  ;  only  a  foAV  lines,  an- 


180 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


nouiicing  that  tho  French  army  had  concen- 
trated near  Leipsic,  and  that  a  decisive  battle 
was  expected.  My  heart  beat  with  joy  ;  he 
was  still  alive.  But  at  tho  same  time  a  fever- 
is-i  longing  arose  in  my  soul  to  see  him,  or  ai 
bast  to  bo  near  him.  Thou  seest  it  was  mad- 
ness for  a  weak  woman  to  leave  the  peaceful 
circle  of  her  homo  and  venture  out  amid  tho 
tumultuous  waves  of  that  wild  storm  of  na- 
tions. But  love  does  not  consider,  —  will  lis- 
ton  to  no  reason ;  it  only  follows  tlie  blind  in- 
stincts of  tho  heart.  One  morning  I  ordered 
my  carriage  and  entered  it  vrith  thee,  for  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  bavo 
thee  behind.  I  camo  to  Hallo,  and  there  wo 
heard  tho  distant,  stifled  roll  of  the  heavy  ar- 
tillery. Two  days  passed  in  death-like  sue- 
ponso  and  agony.  Tho  most  contradictory 
rumors  met  our  cars ;  now  it  was  the  French 
Avho  were  victorious,  and  then  the  Allied  ar- 
mios.  I  could  no  longer  endure  the  tortures 
of  uncertainty.  I  determined  to  be  at  least 
nearer  to  that  spot  where  every  bulb',  miglit 
perhaps  bo  aimed  at  my  husband's  heart. 
On  the  unfortunate  18th  of  October,  I  lefc 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTEK.  181 

Ilallo,  and  slowly,  but  as  if  drawn  by  como 
unseen  power,  proceeded  on  my  w^ay  to  Leipsic. 
Tlic  coachman  wished  to  return,  but  I  reiused, 
and  commanded  liim  onward.  A  false  report, 
received  from  come  French  soldiers  galloping 
past  us,  that  the  Emperor  was  triumphant,  in- 
creased my  self-delusion.  I  approached  within 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  of  Leipsic,  but  there 
—  to  my  horror  —  I  met  the  first  columns  of 
the  llying  French  army.  In  frantic  haste  they 
stormed  past  us.  The  confusion  became  every 
moment  greater.  The  road  was  blocked  up 
with  cannon  and  baggage-w^agons ;  I  could 
neither  advance  nor  recede.  My  carriage  Avas 
thrust  aside,  and  sank  with  its  hind  wdieels  in 
a  ditch.  The  horses  attached  to  a  cannon  fell ; 
mine  were  at  once  unharnessed  and  seized  up- 
on. Innumerable  bands  of  men  fled  by  me, 
but  no  one  thought  of  me  ;  one  sole  idea  fdled 
every  mind,  —  to  press  onward  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  Cut  the  horror  was  doomed  still 
further  to  increase.  The  position  seemed  a 
favorable  one  for  some  columns  of  the  Guard 
to  station  themselves,  and  cover  the  rear  of 
the  flying  army.  Gustavus !  I  soon  found 
  IG. 


182  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

myself  in  a  raging  combat.  A  regiment  of 
cavalry  rod 3  rapidly  past;  tlio  bullets  Avliistled 
round  my  dofonccbss  bead.  My  eye  suddenly 
fell  upon  ono  dctacbmcnt  of  the  caA'alry ;  a 
single  horseman  led  thom  on.  It  vras  he, — 
my  husband !  As  if  stricken  by  lightning,  I 
sprang  up  ;  my  eyes  stared  after  him,  my  arms 
Avere  outspread  toward  him.  But  he  did  not 
see  me  ;  wit!i  a  loud  and  menacing  voice  lie 
gave  his  orders.  Holy  Fatlier  in  heaven ! 
Suddenly  he  fell ;  a  ball  had  struck  him. 
Like  an  arrow  I  sprang  from  the  carriage. 
How  I  reached  him  through  tlie  tumult  of 
battle  and  tlie  close  ranks  of  the  combatants, 
is  still  a  mystery  to  me.  I  can  remember 
nothing,  except  that,  with  a  cry  of  horror,  I 
fell  upon  him,  and  flung  my  arms  about  his 
neck ;  all  consciousness  then  left  me." 

Overpowered  by  these  fearful  memories,  the 
Baroness  could  no  longer  continue.  She 
buried  her  face  in  the  sofa-cushions,  and  gave 
free  vent  to  her  emotions.  Gustavus  had 
listened  with  breathless  attention,  and  at  tliis 
moment  cried  out :  "  Wonderful  !  vronder- 
ful !  All  this  has  often  passed  in  darkened 
images  before  my  inward  vision." 


TUT.  YOUXG  TAIXTER. 


183 


Tvlicn  tlio  motlicr  had  eomcwliat  recovered 
her  £cl>coiitrol,  lIio  lifted  licr  head,  and  said  : 

Yes,  tell  mo,  my  son,  liow  was  it  possible 
for  thee  to  represent  that  fearful  scene  in  thy 
picture,  so  nearly  as  it  really  occinTcd  ?  " 

"It  may  have  been  an  inspiration  from 
above  to  reunite  us,"  replied  Gustavus.  "  And 
then  could  it  have  been  otherwise?  Could  I, 
a  feeble  child,  be  found  upon  a  battle-field 
u:ilcss  my  mother  had  brought  luc  there  ? 
And  wh'^t  could  have  severed  her  from  my 
tide,  if  not  the  power  of  some  stronger  affec- 
tion rendering  her  insensible  to  danger,  and 
excluding  everything  except  itself  ?  Hovr 
probabb  the  thought  that  it  could  only  be 
t!i3  sight  of  her  husband's  peril  which  could 
tear  the  mother  from  her  child.  Among  all 
t!i3  possibilities  which  passed  through  my 
mind,  tliis  seemed  to  me  the  most  tiu3  to 
nature  and  tlie  dearest.  Thus,  from  a  chain 
of  probable  suppositions  and  plausible  conclu- 
sions, arose  my  picture.  It  was  God's  Vv^ll 
tliat  I  should  have  divined  aright.  But  con- 
thiue,  dearest  mother ;  I  burn  with  desire  to 
know -all  that  followed."  -  .  . 


184  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

"  I  liavo  but  little  moro  to  add,"  replied  tli 
Baroness.  "  Thy  father  was  severely  wounded. 
But  his  faithful  followers,  who  were  fervently 
devoted  to  him,  were  not  willing  that  he  should 
die  on  the  battle-field,  or  fall  into  the  hands 
of  tlie  enemy.  They  laid  him,  as  well  as  my- 
self, for  I  was  still  unconscious,  upon  a  bag- 
gage-wagon, and,  soon  after,  the  retreat  was 
slowly  and  in  good  order  continued.  I  finally 
recovered  my  senses.  My  first  thought  was 
my  child  !  My  heart-rending  cries  moved  even 
the  rough  soldiers  lying  wounded  Avith  mo 
upon  tlie  wagon.  I  would  have  sprung  out ; 
they  held  me  back.  It  would  liave  been  easier 
to  have  swam  against  a  rushing  mountain  tor- 
rent, than  through  that  dense  retreat  to  have 
reached  the  place  where  I  had  left  thee.  Thy 
father's  hot  and  feverish  grasp  held  my  hands 
fast  bound  in  his ;  his  dim  and  dying  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  my  face,  and  a  fauit  smile  upon 
liis  lips  betrayed  that  he  had  recognized  me. 
Gustavus,  I  saw  him  die  before  my  eyes.  1 
cannot  understand  why  I  did  not  then  die 
too,  but  God  willed  that  I  should  still  live  on 
and  suffer.    After  a  few  .days  wo  reached 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTEK.' 


Erfurth.  My  husband's  faithful  body-servant 
had  assumed  the  caro  and  protection  of  liis 
master's  wifo.  I  there  fell  into  a  nervous 
fever.  During  several  weeks  I  lay  a  prey  to 
the  wildest  delirium.  I  recovered ;  but  it 
was  three  months  before  I  was  strong  enough 
to  leave  my  room.  My  first  journey  Avas  to- 
ward the  place  where  a  frightful  destiny 
seemed  to  liavc  deprived  me  of  every  joy  in 
life.  I  could  scarcely  recognize  tlic  place  ; 
it  Avas  covered  Avith  a  tliick  and  melancholy 
veil  of  snow.  Ah,  Avhat  efforts  I  made  !  How 
many  thousand  means  did  I  employ  to  discoA'cr 
thee  !  All  in  vain  1  Finally,  I  buried  thee 
in  my  heart  Avith  my  beloA'cd  dead.  I  Avith- 
drcAV  in  the  deepest  solitude  to  one  of  my 
husband's  estates,  and  there,  through  a  long 
night  of  sorroAv,  Avept  over  my  brief  dream 
of  happiness. 

^'  And  henceforth  ?  "  cried  GustaA'us,  tender- 
ly folding  his  arms  around  his  mother's  neck. 

"  Ilenceforth  I  Avill  be  more  cheerful !  J 
Avill  again  live  my  life  in  thee  !  '^ 

Mother  and  son  remained  long  locked  in  a 
client  embrace.   Tlien  aAvokc  the  old  man,  avIio 

16* 


18G 


TnE  TOrXG  PAn^TETl. 


gazed  upon  tlicm  with  a  look  of  iinutterabb 
love,  and  finally  said:  "Do  you  know,  my 
cliildrcn,  what  is  now  our  first  duty  ?  Grat- 
itude ! " 

"  Yes,  0  yes ! joyfully  cried  Gustavus. 
We  must  now  thank  those  kind  people  to 
whom  we  owe  far  more  than  we  can  ever 
repay." 

"  You  mean.  Father  Braun  and  good  Master 
Iluber!" 

"  Exactly  so.  I  think  you  had  both  better 
go  and  visit  them." 

"Delightful!  charming!"  cried  GustaTus. 
"  And  you,  dear  mother,  will  you  not  accom- 
pany me  ? " 

"  Canst  thou  doubt  it  ?  Must  I  not  tell  them 
they  have  made  me  the  happiest  mother  in  the 
world?" 

The  next  day  but  one  was  fixed  for  the  de- 
parture  of  mother  and  son  upon  their  journey. 


CnAPTER  X. 


ALL  'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 

We  again  find  Gustavus  in  Brcslau,  whither 
ho  was  accompanied  by  his  motlier.  Of  course 
he  visited  the  worthy  pastor  and  the  excellent 
police  officer,  who,  after  his  flight  from  Feld- 
herg's,  had  shown  him  such  real  kindness  and 
sympathy.  Their  reception  was  hearty,  and. 
their  joy  great,  when  he  imparted  to  them  the 
sudden  and  happy  turn  which  his  fortunes  liad 
taken. 

But  we  must  not  so  hastily  pass  over  his  visit 
to  Huber.  He  purposely  chose  an  evening  hour, 
because  he  knew  that  the  master  would  then 
be  at  liome.  He  preferred  entering  tlie  family, 
in  which  he  liad  passed  so  many  happy  days  as 
son  and  brother,  simply  as  Gustavus.  For  ho 
justly  fjarcd  that  his  ncwiiapio  aucl,.po§itipiL 


188 


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


might  create  some  strangeness  and  embarrass- 
ment between  himself  and  these  simple  peoplj. 
Tlic  announcement  of  the  last  important  event 
in  his  life  Avas  intrusted  to  a  letter  to  be  bft 
with  tliem  at  his  departure.  It  was  already 
.  dusk  when  ho  knocked  at  tlie  well-known  door. 
The  master  called  out :  Come  in !  "  Gusta- 
Tus  entered,  and  once  more,  with  the  old  heart 
and  the  old  love,  stood  in  the  cozy  little  room 
among  those  kind,  good  people.  He  joyfully 
bade  them  good  evening. 

Merciful  Heaven  !  "   cried  the  mistress. 
"  That  is  Gustavus  ! 

The  master  rose  quickly  from  his  ceat  and 
flung  his  pipe  aside. 

"What!  Gustavus?"  cried  he.  "Truly, 
it  is  he.  Welcome,  a  thousand  times  welcome, 
my  dear,  good  boy !  " 

Embrace  now  followed  embrace.  The  chil- 
dren came  too,  and  soon  joyfully  surrounded 
their  unforgotten  brother.  Only  the  eldest 
daugliter,  now  grown  up  into  a  pretty  maiden 
of  some  sixteen  years,  stood  half  ashamed  at  a 
little  distance,  and  blushed  as  Gustavus  kissed 
her  blooming  cheek. 


THE  TOU^G  PAINTER. 


180; 


Hubcr,  with  all  his  fliioncy,  seemed  as  if  ho 
could  never  sufficiently  express  liis  joy. 

The  thousand !  cried  he,  how  tlic  lad 
lias  grown !  Wlien  I  think  of  him  as  he  fir^t 
came  to  ns,  —  and  now  ho  is  a  full  head  taller. 
And  how  straight  and  strong  he  looks  !  That  is 
a  youth  after  God's  own  heart.  And  he  looks 
distinguished  too,  like  a  young  nobleman ! 

There  is  no  telling  how  long  he  might  havo 
continued  in  this  strain,  had  net  the  mother 
interrupted  him,  saying:  "But  fatlnr,  art 
thou  not  going  to  ask  our  dear  young  guest  to 
sit  down  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  yes  ;  ho  must  sit  down  ;  here, 
in  this  comfortable  corner.  Mother !  this  is 
a  real  festive  evening.  Bring  out  the  best  thou 
liast.  And  don't  forget  a  flask  of  good  wine  ; 
for  this  my  son  —  I  had  nearly  said  —  was 
lost  and  has  been  found  again.  No,  not  loitl 
But  returned  !  The  young,  aspiring  artist,  lan- 
ded by  all  the  papers,  has  not  forgotten  the  old 
and  unknown  wall-painter,  John  Hubcr  !  " 

"  0,  I  never  feared  that !  "  said  the  mother; 

I  knew  Gustavus  would  never  forget  us." 
.  "AJiliousaad  thanks  ibi*.  3;Loui:.kmd.jopiuioD- 


THE  TOUNG  PAINTER. 


of  mo  !  "  cried  Giistaviis.  "  I  return  to  you 
the  same  as  of  old  !  " 

"  The  same  as  of  old  ?  "  exclaimed  Ilubcr. 
"  No,  thou  every  day  bccomest  something  new. 
Gustavus,  what  all  hast  thou  not  become  since 
thou  left  us.  I  saw  thy  picture  at  the  lato 
exhibition.  That  ivas  a  picture  !  When  I 
looked  at  it,  bright  tears  ran  down  my  cheeks. 
1  went  there  twenty  times,  only  to  see  what 
great  eyes  the  people  made.  I  did  so  long  to 
cry  out  and  tell  them  all  that  thou  hadst  once 
been  my  scholar.  But  nobody  would  have 
believed  me." 

Did  I  not  tell  tliec,"  said  Mrs.  Huber, 
"  that  Gustavus  had  been  created  for  better 
things  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  And  thou  wert  right.  Thou 
art  always  right !  "  he  added,  smiling.  "  I, 
too,  knew  that  he  could  not  remain  a  mcro 
wall-painter  ;  but  then  it  grieved  me  so  when 
ho  wanted  to  leave  us  !  " 

^'  Ye  kind,  good  friends :  "  cried  Gustavus. 

Say  no  more  ;  yo  Avill  spoil  me.  If  I  were 
proud  and  arrogant,  it  would  really  be  your 
lliulti.  ^  Haw,  is.,  it  naw.^?.  adidcd,  .lie, .  iafter  a 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


101 


momentary  pause,  — "  liow  h  it  with  3'our 
business,  master  ?  I  hope  it  is  as  good  as 
ever !  " 

God  bo  praised,  yes  !  Thy  drawings,  Gus- 
tavus,  w^erc  a  real  blessing  to  me.  Wherever 
I  used  them,  every  one  Avas  delighted.  Every 
one  insisted  upon  having  rooms  and  halls 
painted  after  those  patterns." 

"  Well,  they  must  bo  nearly  exliaustod.  If 
you  like,  you  shall  liave  some  new  ones." 

"  What,  thou  couldst  ?  .  .  .  .  But  no !  Thy 
talent  is  much  too  lofty,  thy  time  too  pre- 
cious —  " 

"  Say  no  more,"  interrupted  Gustavus. 
"  Would  it,  then,  be  something  so  very  ex- 
traordinary once  more  to  return  to  one's  old 
occupation,  especially  when  one  receives  sucli 
excellent  testimonials  of  ability  ?  Besides,  I 
have  now  abundance  of  time." 

"  How  so  ?  " 
I  am  going  to  look  a  little  about  mo  in  the 
world." 

"What,  hast  thou  no  fixed  residence  ?  " 
"  Not  for  the  present.    I  am  now  in  Bres- 
lau,  visiting  my  old  friends.    In  a  few  days  I 


192 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTEK, 


am  going  among  tlio  mountains  to  ceo  my  dear 
Fatlier  Braun." 
"  And  then  ?  " 

"  Then,  master,  I  liopo  to  roalizo  an  old  and 
lioavcnlj,  lovely  dream.  I  expect  to  xkii 
Italy." 

Gustavus,  Giistaviis,  the  muses  must  liav3 
been  very  kind  to  theo." 

"  Yes,   every   earthly   blessing   lias  been 
vouchsafed  to  my  unworthy  self." 
Come,  tell  us,  toll  us  I  " 
Not  now  ;  you  shall  hereafter  know  cvcry- 
tliing ;  but  all  1  can  tell  you  now  is,  that 
Heaven  has  blessed  me  unspeakably." 

Tlius  continued  the  conversation.  Gustavus 
told  of  his  artist  life  in  Dresden,  played  witli 
the  children,  and  questioned  Mrs.  Huber  con- 
cerning all  the  little  events  of  a  household 
life.  An  excellent  supper,  at  which  a  flask  of 
noble  wine  was  not  wanting,  increased  the 
general  hilarity,  and  it  was  late  before  Gus- 
tavus rose  to  depart.  Tlie  good  mother  Avas 
quite  unwilling  he  should  leave  them,  as  she 
had  already  prepared  a  bed  for  him  in  his 
former  little  room.    But  he  was  not  to  be  per- 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


193 


suadocl  to  rcmai!!.  AYhcii  parting  at  tlic  outer 
door  witli  liis  old  master,  Gustavus  pressed  a 
letter  into  the  kind  hand  which  clung  to  liis  zo 
cordially,  and  eeemed  so  loath  to  suffer  him  tj 
depart. 

Wc  will  remain  behind  a  few  moments  with 
tho  house-painter's  family.  The  father  soon 
returned  to  the  sitting-room  ;  old  and  young 
were  still  assembled,  for  the  general  joy  had 
kept  the  little  ones  awake. 

"  Gustavus  has  put  a  letter  into  my  hand," 
said  Huber,  "  and  I  must  see  at  once  what  it 
means." 

He  went  to  the  light,  opened  tlie  paper  and 
read  ;  and  the  more  ho  read,  the  more  aston- 
ishment did  his  countenance  express. 

^'  What  is  this  ?  "  cried  he.  "  Braun  not 
my  father,  —  lost  child,  —  battle  of  Leipsic, 
—  mother  found,  —  Baron  von  Adlcrsbcrg  ! 
Listen  mother ;  listen  cliildren !  "  cried  he 
suddenly.  '-It  is  really  wonderful !  listen  to 
what  Gustavus  writes  !  " 

Motlier  and  cliildren,  all  filled  with  anxious 
expectation  and  curiosity,  pressed  round  the 
father,  while  he  read  aloud  Gustavus's  letter 

17 


194 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


containing  a  condensed  account  of  the  singular 
and  fortunate  unfolding  of  liis  destiny.  Tho 
letter  concluded  thus  :  — 

"  Pardon  mo,  dear  master,  that  I  havo 
chosen  this  mode  of  informing  you  of  all  that 
has  befallen  me.  But  I  Avished  to  appear 
among  you  only  as  Gustavus,  and  show  you 
that  the  old  heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude 
was  still  beating  within  my  breast.  But  I 
could  not  entirely  withhold  from  you  tho 
knowledge  of  this  great  change  in  my  circum- 
stances, for  you  have  a  right  to  rejoice  in  all 
my  joy.  Retain  for  me  your  old  affection,  as 
mine  for  you  can  never  fade  from  my  bosom. 
Regarding  my  mother's  enclosure,  I  have  only 
to  add,  tliat  you  must  by  no  means  consider 
it  in  tho  light  of  gratitude,  but  merely  as  a 
proof  of  her  desire  to  render  the  future  paths 
of  your  children  as  easy  and  agreeable  as  pos- 
sible." 

When  Huber  opened  the  sealed  enclosure, 
a  note  for  throe  tliousand  dollars  foil  out  of 
it.  Within  were  written  simply  tho  followii)g 
words  :  — 

"  Tho  money  is  for  your  children.  May 


THE  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


195 


they  ever  tread  in  tlie  footsteps  of  tlicir  excel- 
lent ])arcnts !  But  for  you  is  the  grateful 
lieart  of  a  happy  mother  !  " 

Wo  will  leave  the  good  painter's  family  to 
their  astonishment,  their  joy,  their  heartfelt 
expressions  of  affection  toward  Gustavus,  and 
return  to  the  youno-  man,  whom  a  few  days 
later  we  find  with  his  mother  on  the  vray  to 
Heichenthal. 

As  long  as  this  little  village  had  been  in  ex- 
istence, never  had  it  witnessed  an  event  similar 
to  that  which  took  place  one  fine  summer  after- 
noon, in  the  3'ear  183-.  A  coach  and  four 
rolled  past  the  lowly  huts  and  cottages,  and 
the  post-horn  blew  such  a  blast  that  all  the 
mountains  echoed.  Young  and  old  ran  to  the 
windows  or  out  into  the  street ;  the  coach 
rolled  past  the  church,  the  parsonage,  the 
school ;  ever  up  the  hill,  whence  all,  however, 
knew  that  the  only  roads  leading  further  were 
mere  wood-paths. 

Finally,  the  equipage  stopped  before  the 
forester's  door.  Braun's  hounds  bayed  ;  the 
mistress  of  the  house  gazed  astonished  over  the 
humble  railing.     A  handsome  young  man 


196  THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 

sprang  out  of  tlio  carriage,  and  running  up  to^ 
her,  shook  licr  heartily  hy  the  hand. 

"  God  bless  you,  mother  !  "  cried  he,  in  ten- 
der and  affectionate  tones.  She  stood  as  if 
rooted  to  the  earth,  gazing  in  amazement  upon 
the  youth,  who  seemed  to  her  so  strange,  and 
yet  so  familiar. 

"  What,"  cried  she,  finally,  "  Gustavus  ?  " 

^'  Yes,  I  am  he." 

Iler  face  beamed  with  delight. 

"  God  be  praised  that  thou,  —  that  you  aro 
once  more  here.  How  glad  I  am  ;  and  ho^ 
my  good  husband  will  rejoice  !  " 

"  Where  is  the  father  ?  " 

"  In  the  wood." 

Then  calling  a  brisk  little  lad  to  her  side, 
she  said  :  "  Run,  Christy,  run  for  thy  father ! 
Thou  knowest  where  he  is,  down  by  the  last 
wood  that  was  cut.  Tell  him  to  come  at  once, 
there  are  guests  here  !  " 

The  lad  ran  as  if  winged  by  the  winds. 
Meanwhile,  Gustavus's  mother  had  also  left 
the  carriage,  and  cordially  greeted  the  forest- 
er's Avife,  who  seemed  utterly  bcwilclcrv3d 
with  the  distinguished  air  and   elegance  of 


THE  YOUNG  PAINTER. 


~  197 


this  strango  apparition.  She  drew  timidly 
l)ack,  and  Gustaviis,  Avho  wished  to  reassure 
lier,  took  licr  aside,  and  cmilingly  caid  to 
her :  "  Mother,  how  is  it  ?  Are  you  satisfied 
with  mo  now  ?  " 

"  Ah !  Gustavus,  of  what  do  you  remind 
me?" 

"  Not  you^  but  thou,  should  you  say  to  me. 
Else  I  will  tliink  you  are  not  glad  to  see  me, 
and  that  you  wish  me  away  again." 

"Well,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  so!  —  When 
I  think  how  often  I  treated  thee  badly,  how 
often  I  scolded  thee,  and  did  not  love  tlieo 
as  I  should  have  done,  then  I  am  so  an- 
gry with  myself.  Ah !  canst  thou  forgive 
me?" 

"  Mother,  say  no  more  of  that ;  and  if  you 
indeed  love  me  a  little,  let  me  never  hear  you 
speak  such  another  word.  Think  only  how 
you  wept  when  I  went  away,  how  you  filled 
my  bundle  with  new,  clean  clothes !  That 
stands  for  ever  graven  on  my  heart !  " 

The  forester's  wife  now  invited  her  guests 
to  enter  tlie  house  ;  but  Gustavus  said  they 
would  prefer  remaining  in  the  open  air  until 
17* 


198 


THE  YOUXG  PAINTER. 


Brau:i  returned.  Tlio  good  woman  tlippcd 
away,  probably  to  excliaiigo  licr  cvcry-day  gar- 
monts  for  otbers  more  suited  to  the  reception 
of  sucli  distinguished  guests. 

Dearest  mother,"  said  Gustavus,  as  he  bJ 
the  way  into  the  garden,  "  let  me  show  you 
tiie  favorite  places  of  my  childhood  !  Look,  on 
this  barn-door  I  made  my  first  essays  in  art. 
Time  and  rough  Avcather  have  washed  them  all 
away  !  But  no  !  There  is  still  the  crest  of  tlic 
stately  knight  Avhom  it  gave  me  such  unutter- 
able satisfaction  to  counterfeit.  And  there, 
too,  are  the  donkey's  cars  and  the  traveller's 
hood.  Under  those  wide-spreading  pear-trees 
I  have  often,  for  hours  together,  lain  in  blissful 
reverie.  I  remember  well  how  a  finch  had 
once  built  his  nest  on  one  of  the  lower 
branches.  It  was  a  real  delight  to  watch  how 
t!ie  old  fed  their  young,  and  how  gay  and 
sprightly  the  whole  little  household  seemed  to 
be.  That  apple-tree  I  planted  myself.  Only 
see,  tliere  are  seven  or  eight  golden  applco 
shining  tlirough  tlie  leaves." 

They  left  the  garden  and  entered  Iho 
wood. 


THS  YOUNG  PAIN'TER. 


103 


All,  mother  !  cried  Gustavus,  *'  these 
nohlo  oaks  and  elms  furnished  me  with  the 
f:ccnc  of  my  happiest  games  and  dreams.  Here, 
0:1  this  very  spot,  whence  the  eye  takes  in  the 
■\vholo  broad  valley,  I  often  sat  and  dreamed, 
gazing  into  the  far  blue  distance.  The  myste- 
rious forcshado wings  which  then  filled  my 
bosom  have  all  since  been  most  strangely  and 
most  gloriously  fulfilled." 

At  that  moment,  Gustavus  heard  a  rustling 
ill  the  bushes  behind  him.  He  turned.  Brauii 
Etood  before  him.  One  spring,  and  the  youth 
was  locked  in  his  arms.  "  Father  !  "  "  Gus- 
ta\us!  "  was  all  these  two  happy  souls  could 
utter.  When  the  first  emotion  had  somewhat 
subsided,  and  the  long  embrace  was  loosened, 
Braun's  eyes  fell  inquiringly  upon  Gustavus's 
companion.  The  youth  took  her  hand,  and 
loading  her  to  Braun,  said  :  ^'  Father,  look, 
this  is  my  mother  !  Dost  thou  hear,  I  liavo 
found  my  mother !  " 

The  Baroness  seized  the  forester's  hands, 
pressed  tliein  to  her  heart,  and  cried  :  "  Thou 
^avioiir  of  my  Gustavus  !  Noble,  true,  and 
excellent  inau  !    3Iy.;lips.  ^ro.  .tog.X-QWo.  te, 


200 


Tna  YOUNG  rAINTER. 


express  tli3  gratitude  welling  from  mj  happy 
lieart.    God  will  reward  tliee  !  " 

Braiiii  uncovered  his  head,  looked  piously 
heavenward,  and  said :  "  My  God,  thou  art 
indeed  great ! 

They  then  proceeded  dowly  toward  tlis 
house,  where  they  found  the  good  damo 
and  lier  children  in  full  state.  That  was  a 
happy  day  in  the  forester's  home.  Gustavus 
related  everything  as  it  had  happened,  and 
Brauu  was  often  forced  involuntarily  to  ex- 
claim:  "Lord,  thou  hast  done  all  things 
well !  " 

Late  in  the  evening,  Gustavus  caid  to 
the  forestar  :  "  And  thou  must  accom- 
pany  us,  father !  I  cannot  again  part  from 
thee  ! " 

"  No,  thou  hadst  better  leave  me  here  !  I 
should  be  entirely  out  of  place  in  thy  nobb 
society,  among  thy  distinguised  relatives.  I 
am  too  old  to  learn  new  ways.  Here,  in  the 
forest,  among  the  hills,  is  my  place,  witli  my 
bucks  and  does.  If  thou  wilt  only  always  love 
me,  and  sometimes  let  me  hear  from  thoc.  I 
shall  bo  entirely  satisfio^l.'' .   


THE  YOUNG  TAINTER. 


201- 


"  But  liow,  ii  tliou  wcrt  to  bo  licad-forcst- 
cr  ?  " 

"  How  so  ?    Ilcad-forcstcr  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  mj  motlicr.  Slio  lias  a  forest  that 
extends  over  lialf  a  square  mile  !  Oaks  and 
firs  that  three  men  could  not  span ;  deer,  stags, 
rocs,  wild  boars,  and  pheasants  in  such  abun^ 
dance  that  they  would  delight  thy  heart !  And 
then  a  house  for  the  head-forester  in  the  very 
centre  of  the  wood  ;  in  the  stable,  two  fine 
horses ;  and  on  the  meadow,  twelve  Swiss 
cows,  with  tinkling  bells.  Ilcy  !  will  not  that 
content  thee,  father  ?  " 

Braun's  honest  heart  boat  with  joy. 

"  AgTC:)d,"  cried  ho.  "  I  consent.  I  am 
yours,  body  and  soul !    That  will  be  a  life  !  " 

'We  must  hero  end  our  talo.  Gustavus,  dur- 
ing the  following  year,  Avent  with  his  mother 
to  Italy,  where  ho  more  and  more  perfected 
himself  in  his  cliosen  art,  to  which  he  was 
never,  for  a  single  moment,  faithless.  His 
paintings,  glorious  testimonials  of  the  beauty 
and  depth  of  his  soul,  were  the  delight  of  his 
coutcmporarics,  and  will  bear  his  uamc  to 


202 


THE  TOCNG  PAINTEK. 


future  generations  with  honor  and  reverence- 
Braun's  family  removed  to  the  estates  of  t]io 
Baroness,  where,  in  the  most  delightful  rela- 
tions with  the  inhabitants  of  the  chateau,  thej 
bd  a  happy  and  contented  life. 


F  I  D  D  L  E  II  A  N  N  S  . 


FIDDLEIIANNSV 


•  '■''fs'-is-vj,,,. 


One  beautiful  summer  evening:,  t  ^cll- 
dressed  young  man  entered  the  public  rcom  of 
the  inn  known  as  "  The  Eagle,"  in  a  Silesian 
market-town.  He  had  juet  dismounted  from 
his  horse,  which  he  had  recommended  to  the 
special  care  of  the  host.  With  an  air  of  aris- 
tocratic indifference,  he  flung  his  riding-whip 
and  cap  upon  tlie  table,  and  took  a  rapid  survey 
of  the  assembled  company. 

It  consisted  of  the  host,  of  the  bailiff  of  the 
estate  on  which  the  town  was  situated,  of  tho 
schoolmaster,  and  the  district  judge ;  conse- 
quently, of  the  chief  personages  of  the  market- 
town.  The  host  stood,  cap  in  hand,  before  tho 
stranger,  and  with  the  most  submissive  courto- 

18 


6 


riDDLEIIANXS. 


rj  asked  the  commands  of  the  "  gracious  lord," 
as  li3  was  pleased  to  term  the  unknown  gncst. 
He  had,  at  the  first  glance,  convinced  himself 
cf  the  faultless  beauty  of  the  new-comer's  horse, 
its  value  had  been  quickly  calculated,  and  ho 
had  thence  deduced  the  probable  weight  cf  the 
owner's  purse ;  an  all-sufficient  reason  for  the 
excessive  attention  he  stood  ready  to  bestow 
upon  the  traveller. 

While  lie  was  tlius  engaged,  the  baililT,  the 
schoolmaster,  and  the  judge  had-  dr-awn  a  little 
closer  together,  and  were  cxchangiiig  various 
remarks  upon  the  stranger,  vrith  sundry  guesses 
as  to  what  had  led  him  from  the  great  high- 
ways to  their  little,  unfrequented  town. 

They  listened  attentively  to  every  word  that 
f  jll  from  his  lips,  and  when  he  said  to  the  host : 
"  A  glass  of  wine,  but  of  the  best !  "  they  con- 
cluded from  his  accent  that  he  was  no  Silesian. 

The  host  bro'ught  the  wine,  and  although  tlio 
vintage  failed  to  please  the  stranger,  the  host 
appeared  quite  indifferent,  as  the  guest  said  in 
a  disparaging  tone  :  "  The  wine  is  good  enough 
for  this  neighborhood  ;  one  must  cut  one's  coat 
according  to  one's  cloth.    You,  gentlemen,  aro 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


? 


probably  from  tho  villago,"  continuod  tbc;  trav- 
cllor,  turning  to  Vaq  other  giiosts,  or,  ratlior, 
I  should  sa}^  from  tho  city,"  added  lie,  cor- 
recting liimself  with  a  smile. 

^'Thc  market-town,  with  your  lordship's  per- 
mission," replied  the  schoolmaster  and  tlie 
judge,  who  on  being  addressed  had  quickly  and 
reverentially  risen  from  their  scats ;  the  baililf 
followed  their  example,  but  somewhat  more  de- 
liberately, that  he  might  yield  no  portion  of 
his  dignity. 

"  You  can,  then,  probably  tell  me  something 
about  my  cousin,  old  Baron  Hammerstone  ;  he 
must  lead  a  curious  sort  of  a  hermit's  life  in 
his  old  fortress  of  a  castle.  Is  it  indeed  true, 
that  he  is  now  entirely  invisible  to  every  one  ?  " 

This  was  a  matter  in  which  tho  bailiff  felt 
himself  quite  at  homo.  Having  learned  that 
a  relative  of  his  master's  stood  before  him, 
he  suddenly  became  more  gracious  than  be- 
fore. Slirugging  his  shoulders  and  assuming  a 
tliouglitful  mien,  he  replied:  It  is  indeed  a 
fact,  your  lordship.  The  older  the  Baron 
grows,  the  less  will  he  know  of  mankind  ;  yes, 
I  really  think  he  has  taken  up  a  hatred  to  tho 
whole  world." 


8 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


But  Avlij  so  ?  Has  lie  had  any  especial 
cause  to  do  so  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

No  one  knows,"  replied  the  bailiff.  "  Tho 
Baron  is  so  now,  and  Ave  cannot  change  him. 
It  is  a  great  pity  he  should  be  possessed  by  such 
a  crazy  wliini,  —  I  had  almost  said,  —  I  meant 
to  say  singular  fancy.  Our  gracious  lord  is  so 
really  good,  that  whenever  he  can  help  any 
one,  he  does  it  most  willingly,  and  with  both 
hands  full." 

"  Every  one  in  the  town  knows  that,"  here 
interrupted  the  schoolmaster,  who  as  he  pro- 
ceeded became  quite  enthusiastic  ;  ^'  you  would 
hardly  believe  how  deeply  in  debt  our  commu- 
nity was  some  thirty  years  ago,  when  the  Baron 
bought  the  Lordship,  and  —  without  vanity  bo 
it  spoken  —  how  many  rogues  we  had  among 
us.  I  well  remember  how  my  blessed  prede- 
cessor in  tlie  school,  Avhile  I  was  only  his  as- 
sistant, once  had  his  cow  stolen  from  its  stall, 
and  how  the  next  day  the  thieves'  children 
brouglit  him  tlie  poor  creature's  tail,  because 
his  old  cowdvin  was  rather  the  worse  for  wear; 
the  old  man  was  so  indignant  that  he  never  re- 
covered the  shock,  and  soon  after  died.   I,  too, 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


9 


found  it  bad  cnongli  in  tlic  beginning,  altliougli 
wc  had  a  brace  of  rascals  in  tlio  stocks  every 
week.  But  now,  look  at  our  community ! 
Everything  is  entirely  changed  !  That  we  have 
no  more  debts,  we  must  thank  our  gracious 
lord's  kindness  and  generosity ;  but  we  liave  a 
Et'iW  deeper  cause  for  gratitude  to  him,  which 
is,  that  our  townspeople  are  now  all  upright 
and  excellent  men.  He  taught  by  his  own 
good  example,  and  mild  and  considerate  as  he 
was  to  all  who  without  any  fault  of  their  own 
had  fallen  into  trouble,  just  so  severe  was  he 
toward  every  rascal.  In  short,  he  has  the  best 
heart  in  the  world,  and  it  is  a  thousand  pities 
he  sliould  have  become  so  misanthropic.'* 

^'  I  must,  however,  believe  that  my  excellent 
cousin  was  not  always  thus?"  remarked  tlio 
F-tranger  in  an  inquiring  tone. 

"  Your  lordship  is  quite  right,"  replied  the 
bailiff. 

"  At  first,  it  was  not  quite  so  bad ;  still,  he 
had  a  slight  attack  of  this  same  indisposition, 
if  we  may  so  call  it,  at  the  time  when  he  first 
purchased  this  property,  and  set  the  old  castle 
in  order.    During  the  first  few  days,  hg  Uad 


10  FIDDLEHAXXS. 

now  chains  put  to  the  drawbridgo  ;  sinco  then, 
it  has  always  bocu  kept  up,  and  tlic  old  lord 
remains  within  his  castle  as  if  it  were  a  bclong- 
iierod  stronghold.  During  the  first  few  years, 
all  had  free  access  to  him,  at  least  every  Sun- 
day ;  he  then  listened  attentively  to  every  com- 
plaint, and  was  ever  ready  to  give  money,  good 
counsel,  or  consolation.  ]n  those  days  he  kept 
a  cook,  a  huntsman,  and  a  serving  woman. 
But  since  his  marriage,  tlicy  have  every  one 
been  discharged." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  cried  the  cousin  in  surprise. 
*'  I  had  not  heard  a  word  of  any  marriage. 
Since  my  fifteenth  year  I  have  been  in  the  Eng- 
lish service,  at  a  great  distance  from  this  her- 
mitage,—  namely,  in  the  East  Indies;  and, 
besides,  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
the  Baron  face  to  face.  From  what  noble 
house,  then,  has  my  cousin  taken  a  spouse  ? " 

She  was  born  Countess  Strahling,"  replied 
tlie  bailiff,  who  now  seemed  to  be  in  the  full 
tide  of  his  eloquence. 

"  Yes,  indeed !  you  are  still  a  young  man, 
gracious  sir,  and  the  Baron  is  nearly  seventy ; 
of  course  you  would  not  know  him,  having  been 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


11 


60  long  absent.  T!i3  story  of  liis  marriage  is  a 
very  strange  one.  One  morning  when  as  u?ual 
I  knocked  upon  tli3  drawbridge,  the  Baron 
himself  lowered  it,  and  I  entered  the  lower 
conrt-yard ;  he  was  dressed  in  his  handsomest 
Sunday  suit.  It  was  a  real  pleasure  to  look  at 
him. 

" '  Resell ! '  said  he  to  mo  (that  is  my  name), — 
*  Resell,  go  down  to  the  town,  order  my  horses 
at  once,  for  I  will  go  out  ;  and  tell  the  pastor 
to  be  in  the  castle  chapol  at  four  o'clock  pre- 
cisely.' — '  At  your  Grace's  command  !  '  re- 
plied I,  turning  away  to  execute  my  commis- 
sion. In  a  few  moments  the  horses  were  har- 
nessed ;  the  Baron  jumped  into  the  carriage 
and  drove  o'T ;  iho  pastor  got  ready,  and  at 
four  o'clock  stood  with  me  in  the  castle  chapel. 
As  the  clock  struck,  the  Baron  drove  back  to 
the  great  door  ;  the  huntsman  sprang  down 
f.-om  his  seat  and  opened  the  carriage  door, 
when  lo  !  to  our  amazement,  a  lady  followed 
t!ie  gracious  lord  from  his  carriage.  Who  was 
it  ?  The  young  and  portionless,  but  singular- 
ly beautiful  Miss  Strahling,  who  dwelt  in  our 
neighborhood  with  some  distant  relatives  of 


12 


riDDLEHANXS. 


hor  father's.  Tin  Baron  bd  tlio  gracious 
lady  into  llio  clia})Gl,  introduced  her  to  tlio 
pastor  as  Ids  betrothed,  showed  him  tlic  niar- 
riago  contract,  which  liad  been  carefully  exe- 
cuted in  all  duo  form,  and  requested  him  to 
proceed  witli  the  marriage  ceremony.  The 
pastor  hesitated,  because  the  banns  had  not 
boon  published  ;  but  the  Baron  showed  him 
a  royal  license,  and  informed  him  that  1,  the 
huntsman,  the  cook,  and  the  maid,  were  to 
servo  as  Avitnesses  ;  and  thus  the  marriage 
was  at  once  concluded." 

During  this  recital,  the  cousin  could  not  help 
several  times  laughing  aloud.  The  baililT  con- 
tinued :  "  The  wedding  was  foUoAvcd  by  a 
princely  foast,  —  a  real  masterpiece  of  good 
cooking.  Tho  gracious  lord  sat  alone  with 
his  bride  at  one  table  ;  tlic  pastor  and  I  occu- 
pied a  second  ;  and,  at  a  little  distance,  tho 
maid  and  the  huntsman  were  seated  at  a 
third.  Our  lively  Fiddlehanns,  who  w^as  not 
then  quite  so  old  as  he  is  now,  stood  at  tho 
door  and  played  the  violin  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent ;  but  the  newly  married  pair  remained 
sitting  quite  still  and  serious,  and  consequently 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


13 


tlio  rest  of  us  did  not  Tcnturo  to  move.  At 
the  cud  of  tliG  next  hour,  j'i.st  as  the  clock 
struck,  the  Baron  laid  aside  his  napkin,  rose, 
offered  his  lady-wife  his  arm,  and  led  her 
into  an  adjoining  apartment,  where  her  bridal 
gifts  Avcre  all  laid  out ;  there  were  in  gold, 
silver,  jewels,  and  deeds  the  full  value  of 
tip  80,000,  as  I,  being  bailiff  of  tlie  baronial 
estates,  can  testify  upon  my  honor  and  my 
conscience.  *  That  is  your  property,  madam,' 
said  the  gracious  lord  ; '  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
you  will  receive  a  yearly  income  of  one  thousand 
dollars,  under  the  sole  condition,  that,  during 
my  lifetime,  you  will  never  again  enter  this 
castle ;  you  are  otherwise  free  to  act  as  you 
please;  I  desire  to  exercise  no  control  over 
you ;  and  now  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you 
good  morning.' 

"  At  a  sign  from  the  Baron,  tlie  huntsman 
gathered  together  tlie  costly  gifts,  and  placed 
tliem  in  the  carriage,  which  was  still  stand- 
ing with  the  horses  unharnessed  in  the  court- 
yard. The  Baron  then  gave  his  wife  the  cus- 
tomary documents,  led  her  reverentially  dovm 
stairs,  and  sent  her  back  a  rich  lady  to  Lho 


It 


FIDDLEIIANXS. 


friends   from  -whom  he  had  received  l:cr 
poor  girl." 

"  Well,  and  v/as  that  really  the  c:k1  of  the 
"whole  matter?"  asked  the  cousin,  laughing. 

"  1  most  luimbly  beg  you  to  Avait  a  mo- 
ment," replied  the  bailiiT,  who,  with  con.^id- 
cralde  emotion,  added  :  "  1  have  my  own  ideas 
upon  the  subject.  I  think  the  Baron  felt  to- 
ward his  wife  an  unutterably  tender  aCcction, 
but  fancied  she  never  could  be  happy  Avitli 
him.  I  must  indeed  be  sadly  mistaken  if 
such  wore  not  the  fact,  and  if  he  did  i\ot  in- 
tend, in  the  noblest  and  tendcrcst  way,  l;y 
the  sacrifice  of  his  own  dearest  wishes,  to 
render  her  wealthy  and  perfectly  independent, 
so  that  she  might  use  her  free  choice  in  scck- 
i:ig  out  whatever  she  might  deem  her  surest 
way  to  happiness.  These  are  my  lioncst  con- 
victions, which,  however,  1  have  no  riglit  to 
olTer  as  certainties  ;  —  but  I  liavc  already  gos- 
siped more  than  there  was  any  occasion  for." 

"  Worthy,  estimable  old  man  !  "  said  tlio 
cousin,  clapping  the  baililT  on  the  shoulder ; 
"  you  Vv'crc  impelled  by  your  excellent  heart, 
and  the  impulse  was  an  honor  to  you.  But 


FIDDLLIIANNS. 


15 


wliat  lias  bocomo  of  my  cousin's  wifo  ?  If 
sho,  as  it  appears,  really  cherished  no  aflec- 
tion  for  him,  1  presume  she  soon  obtained  a 
divorce  and  married  another  ?  " 

"Not  so,"  replied  the  bailiff;  "she  is  still 
free,  and,  to  far  as  1  know,  she  honors  the 
Baron  as  if  he  were  lier  father  ;  notwith- 
standing her  wealtli,  she  is  not  happy,  because 
slie  well  knows  that  tlie  Baron  is  not  so, 
and  she  has  but  one  single  desire,  —  to  see 
him  once  more.  She  has  often  tried  to  induce 
him  to  i)ermit  her  to  viMt -him.;.,  but  he  has 
hitherto  steadfastly  refused,  and  I  know  him 
but  ill,  if  t!ie  reason  of  his  apparently  harsh 
denial  be  not,  that  he  fears  lest  his  feelings 
at  sucli  an  interview  should  overpower  him. 
This  is  indeed  llie  most  wonderful  of  all  his 
Avonderful  whims,  —  that  he  is  ashamed  of  pos- 
sessing a  kind,  gentle,  and  affectionate  heart : 
he  takes  llie  greatest  ])ains  to  seem  rough  and 
hard-hearted,  so  tliat  no  one  may  thiidi  him 
weak.  Probably,  at  some,  former  period  of 
his  Lfe,  he  was  deceived,  and  his  conhdence 
abused  ;  probably  —  But  what  right  have 
i  to  make  suppositions  concerning  my  lord's 


IQ  FIDDLEHANNS.  ™ 

conduct !  Enougli,  lie  must  have  been  sadly 
treated  by  bis  fellow-beings,  that  he  should  so 
entirely  avoid  them  ;  and  even  uoav,  amid  all  his 
loneliness,  like  an  invisible  guardian-spirit,  he 
seems  never  weary  of  doing  good  to  all." 

"  Mine  host !  Another  bottle  of  wine  !  " 
cried  the  cousin  ;  and  when  the  Avine  Avas 
brought,  he  poured  out  full  glasses  for  the 
bailiff,  the  schoolmaster,  and  the  judge,  in- 
viting them  to  drink  to  the  health  and  Avelfarc 
of  the  old  lord.  No  one  required  a  second 
invitation,  and  even  the  host  poured  out  a 
glass  from  his  own  private  cupboard,  and 
drank  with  the  rest. 

Meantime,  the  cousin's  countenance  visibly 
darkened  ;  ho  Avalked  several  times  up  and 
down  the  room,  and  finally  exclaimed  :  "  Tliis 
is  indeed  too  bad  !  Here  have  1  come  a  couple 
of  tliousand  miles  to  see  my  strange,  dear, 
good  cousin,  and  to  talk  with  him  over  some 
important  family  matters  ;  and  from  all  I  hear, 
it  may  be  that  he  will  not  even  permit  mo 
to  enter  the  castle.  Very  vexatious,  —  upon 
my  honor,  very  vexatious  !  " 

"  Without  doubt  he  Avill  deny  you  admit- 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


17 


tancc,"  replied  the  bailiff ;  "  I  know  him  well. 
After  liis  marriage  he  sent  away  the  cook,  tho 
liuntsman,  and  the  maid,  and  has  all  his  food, 
which  he  will  allow  no  one  hut  Fiddlehanns 
to  hring  him,  thrust  through  a  sliding  window 
in  the  castle  gate." 

"  Fiddlehanns  ? "  said  the  cousin  inquir- 
ingly. 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  bailiff,  evidently 
quite  excited  by  the  subject  of  his  discourse  ; 
"  and  how  it  docs  look  up  there !  When  I 
pay  my  customary  business  visit  on  the  first 
of  every  month,  and  look  tlirough  the  open 
window  into  his  chamber,  I  feel  really  desper- 
ate. The  dust  and  lumber  of  many  years 
lie  so  thick  upon  the  floor,  —  I  assure  you  I 
do  not  exaggerate,  —  that  the  path  made  by 
the  Baron's  footsteps  as  he  walks  up  and 
down  all  day  long,  looks  just  like  a  little 
valley  between  two  ridges." 

Oh,  oh !  "  cried  the  cousin,  "  that  is  too 
bad  I " 

"  But  not  worse  than  the  reality,"  continued 
the  bailiff;  "  instead  of  human  beings,  tlio 
Baron  has  only  old  musty  books  and  docu- 

19 


18 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


monts  for  companions,  and  I  have  more  than 
o:ic3  lioard  him  remark,  witli  bitter  scorn, 
that  tlicy  were  just  as  arrant  hars  as  men 
Wore  ;  but  that  what  one  could  not  easily  ac- 
complish with  the  human  race,  he  hoped  to 
c'Toct  witli  books,  namely,  to  make  tliem  in 
tlicir  own  despite  witnesses  to  the  truth.  God 
only  knows  how  much  paper  he  has  already 
written  up  !  And  that  too  is  all  covered  with 
dust.  I  believe  he  sent  away  his  servants, 
not  . only  through  hatred  of  men,  but  also  be- 
cause lie  wished  to  render  himself  secure  from 
every  attempt  at  preservbig  order  and  cleanli- 
ness in  his  vicinity  ;  he  often  forbade  old  Chris- 
tine meddling  with  his  affairs,  but  she  never 
would  listen  to  him,  and  he  finally  drove  lier 
away  —  so  to  say  —  in  anger  at  her  neatness. 
But  now  his  secret  almoner,  Fiddleliaims, 
brings  her  her  wages  regularly,  the  first  of 
every  month,  just  as  if  she  Avere  still  in  tlie 
Baron's  service." 

"  Wlio,  then,  is  this  Fiddlehamis  ?  "  again 
asked  tlic  cousin,  and  this  time  more  ear- 
nestly than  before. 

"  Our  gracious  lord's  favorite,  and  our  old 


S^IDDLEnANNS. 


19 


Inimpbackcd  musician,"  replied  the  bailiff; 
^'  the  Bai'ou  is  a  groat  lover  of  music,  "which, 
after  his  studies,  forms  his  only  recreation  in 
his  solitude.  He  plays  the  llute,  and  Fiddle- 
hanns  accompanies  him  on  the  violin ;  ho 
remains  within  the  castle  with  the  draw- 
bridge up,  and  Fiddlchanns  stands  without 
on  the  other  side  of  the  moat,  and  plays  as 
long  as  the  Baron  likes.  The  latter  seems 
to  love  and  trust  the  old  musician  more  than 
any  other  living  human  being  ;  yes,  1  believe 
he  is  the  only  mortal  who  has  the  least  influ- 
c:ico  over  our  gracious  lord.  If  you  have 
indeed  cucli  weighty  matters  to  discuss  with 
tlie  Baro]i,  your  best  plan  will  be  to  apply 
to  Fiddlehanns  ;  if  ho  cannot  win  you  an  en- 
trance, you  must  renounce  all  hope.  But  seo! 
here  ho^comos  himself,  as  if  he  had  been  called. 
Good  eveniiig,  Fiddlehanns  !  " 

Tlie  old  humpbacked  musician,  with  liis  vio- 
lin u]ider  his  arm,  entered  the  public  room. 
One  could  hardly  fancy  an  uglier  man,  and 
yet  it  was  that  very  ugliness  wliich  had  pro- 
cured him  the  special  affection  of  the  recluse. 
Besides,  as  toon  as  the  old  musician  began  to 


^0 


riDDLEIIANXS. 


speak,  his  pock-marked  features  ^verc  lightcf] 
up  by  so  benevolent  an  expression,  tliat  one 
soon  felt  kindly  toward  liim,  even  "svlien  one 
failed  to  understand  his  peculiar  mode  of 
speech,  and  the  meaning  of  the  searching  but 
furtive  glances  cast  by  his  great  brown  eyes 
from  beneath  his  heavy  gray  eyebrows. 

Fiddlehanns  had,  however,  not  always  been 
thus.  In  his  childhood  he  was  as  comely  a 
lad  as  one  would  wish  to  see,  and  tliere  were 
still  a  few  aged  persons  living  in  his  native 
village  who  could  remember,  when  very  young, 
gathering  round  the  good-natured  boy  whose 
violin  was  the  delight  of  the  little  community, 
and  whose  kind  heart  rendered  him  a  favorite 
in  every  household.  A  severe  fall  had  checked 
his  growth  and  deformed  his  person,  and  the 
small-pox  had  disfigured  his  once  attractive 
features. 

The  bailiff  soon  made  Fiddlehanns  acquaint- 
ed with  the  person,  the  position,  and  the 
wishes  of  the  stranger,  who  on  his  side,  by 
obliging  expressions,  strove  to  render  tlie  old 
musician  propitious  to  his  cause.  Fiddle- 
hanns cast  his  eyes  upon  the  cousin,  smiled, 


2i 


and  instead  of  replying,  drank  off  at  ono 
drauglit  tlic  glass  of  Avinc  which  the  school- 
master had  pnshcd  toward  him ;  then  j)lacing 
the  violin  under  his  chin,  ho  played  in  tho 
strangest  fashion,  beginning  with  a  pleasant 
dance,  then  changing  to  a  funeral  marcli,  hero 
and  there  interspersed  with  snatches  of  dance 
tunes.  Suddenly  he  broke  off  with  a  horrible 
discord,  and  gave  the  bailiff  such  a  piercing 
look,  tliat  he  cried  out :  Tliat  air  sounds  \crv 
familiar  to  me  !  Did  you  not  ])lay  that  dance 
at  our  gracious  lord's  wedding?" 

The  old  musician  passed  his  hand  across 
his  eyes,  replaced  his  violin  under  his  arm, 
and  thus  addressed  the  stranger  :  The  glori- 
ous sun  must  shine,  sir  cousin,  the  moon  no 
less  ;  and  the  green  grass  and  the  whole  Avorld 
must  live !  You  dear  people,  vain  is  dcatli ; 
but  not  in  vain  is  music,  and  not  in  vain  ono 
single  kind  word  spoken.  Yes,  look  at  me, 
what  a  selfish  fellow  I  am !  Not  so,  Mr.  Bailiff? 
Do  you  not  know  me  as  such  ?  Good  I  —  out* 
master  cousin  must  also  march  out  and  make 
a  beginning.  If  you  only  knew,  sir  cousin, 
how  down  iii  the  wood  lies  a  poor  cottager 
u  * 


22  riDDLEHANNS. 

on  his  deathbed,  with  wife  and  children,  and 
never  a  roof  to  slicltcr  liim.  I  liave  just  come 
from  there.  The  storm  tliat  so  threateningly 
tlmndered  this  afternoon  fell  in  fact  upon  the 
poor  cottager's  thatched  roof.  How  it  blazed! 
IIow  the  wind  blew  and  drove  the  poor  people 
from  their  burning  dwelling  ;  and  liow  they 
had  not  far  to  carry  their  treasures,  and  yet 
were  tired  and  breathless  Avith  the  exer- 
tion of  saving  them  ;  namely,  the  wife,  lier 
sick  husband ;  and  the  eldest  boy,  liis  two 
little  sisters ;  —  you  sliould  liave  seen  that  from 
afar,  as  I  did  !  And  now  the  sick  man  is  lying 
out  nnder  God's  free  heaven ;  the  rain  is 
washing  the  dcatli-damps  from  his  brow,  and 
the  wind  is  piping  tlie  old  song  in  his  car :  ^  I 
have  set  my  licart  npon  nothing  you  see ! '  and 
the  wife  is  kneeling  beside  him,  warming  liis 
cold  llngcr-ends  in  lier  trembling  hands,  and 
the  cliildren  arc  sitting  ronnd,  the  silly  things, 
and  crying  for  bread,  as  if  it  could  fall  from 
tlie  trees  like  the  heavy  rain-drops.  Up  and  bo 
doing,  gentlemen  !  Here  is  my  liat ;  I  liavo 
done  playing,  and  now  I  must  ask  my  re- 
ward."   


riDDLKIIANNS. 


23 


So  saying,  Fiddlehanns  went  hat  in  liaud 
from  guost  to  guest,  and  collected  a  liberal 
alms,  which  he  placed  in  the  schoolmaster's 
keeping,  at  the  same  time  saying :  "  How  is 
it,  godfather  ?  Could  you  not  beg  a  cou])l3 
of  beds  from  your  old  wife  ?  And  you,  Mr. 
Bailiff,  have  you  not  a  couple  of  shirts  to 
cpare  ?  To-day  wo  must  for  once  be  before 
our  gracious  lord  and  get  the  peopb  as  fast 
as  possible  under  shelter,  procure  bread  for 
the  children,  and  medicine  for  the  ^;ick. 
AVheu  our  lord  will  hear  it  to-morrow,  he 
will  be  angry,  and  that  is  just  what  I  Avant, 
for  then  1  can  say  to  him :  '  It  serves  your 
Grac3  just  right ;  that  is  Avhat  one  gets  by 
loading  such  an  owl's  life ! '  But  now  you 
must  all  go  to  the  wood !  And  take  tlie 
pastor  witli  you, — you  may  want  him;  and 
master  cousin,  too,  —  every  little  helps!  If 
you  do  well  by  tliose  poor  people,  master 
cousin,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do  for  you  with 
t!ie  gracious  lord." 

Thus  saying,  he  turned  to  leave  the  room, 
but  at  the  threshold,  once  more  faced  tlie 
stranger,  and  after  a  few  moments'  consider- 


24 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


atioii,  cried  out:  "Sir  cousin!  Be  at  the 
drawbridge  to-morrow  at  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning !    Good  night !  " 

Ho  then  liastencd  up  the  liill  nearest  to  tlio 
castle,  and  only  separated  by  a  deep  ditch  from 
the  tower  in  which  the  recluse  Avas  accustomed 
to  sleep.  The  twilight  grew  ever  fainter, 
while  the  moon  in  all  its  splendor  rose  be- 
hind tlie  wooded  crags.  Tlie  old  humjjbacked 
musician  gazed  a  few  moments  upoji  the  icenc, 
then  tuning  his  violin,  he  said:  "A  farewell 
to  the  sun  and  a  greeting  to  thoo,  old  friend 
moon !  Be  content ;  the  poor  fiddler  will  do 
his  best." 

Baring  his  head  and  standing  thus  amid  the 
solemn  silence  of  the  landscape,  he  phiyed  tlic 
air  of  tlie  song :  "  Now  rest  all  tho  woods 
and  fields." 

The  well-known  tower  window  was  then 
opened ;  the  old  recluse  appeared  with  his 
flute,  waited  until  the  violinist  had  played  to 
tho  end,  and  tlicn  began  to  pipe  tlie  same  air 
upon  liis  instrument,  wliicli  Fiddlehanns  ac- 
companied with  his  violin  ;  the  niglitingalcs 
amid  the  shrubbery  of  the  neglected  castle 


FIDDLEIIANXS. 


25 


garden  soon  addod  their  delicious  notes  to 
the  nocturnal  concert. 

The  melody  had  long  boon  ended ;  tlio  two 
strange  old  men  stood  silently  facing  each 
other  until  the  twilight  had  faded  into  dark 
night,  and  the  moon,  which  liad  meantime  got- 
ten beliind  the  tower,  threw  its  dusky  shadow 
upon  the  figure  of  Fiddlehanns,  when  the 
Baron  asked :  "  Where  have  you  Ijcen,  Fiddle- 
hanns ?  " 

"  Far  and  near,"  was  the  reply,  —  in  wood 
and  field,  amid  men  and  all  kinds  of  crea- 
tures,—  among  the  rest  in  a  certain  castle, 
"which  I  sliall  not  name.  Yi ell,  she  lias  at  last 
Eolemnized  lier  wedding,  —  tliat  person  whom 
I  will  not  name, — this  afternoon,  at  five 
o'clock,  just  after  the  storm  had  ceased." 

"  You  lie  !  "  cried  the  Baron  hastily.  After 
a  sliort  pause,  he  continued  in  low  and  sup- 
pressed tones,  —  tones  of  ill-concoaled  an- 
guish :  "  It  is  all  right,  I  should  have  said ; 
1  rojoico  in  her  happiness  ;  I  have  never  de- 
sired anything  but  her  happiness.  Yes,  yes, 
I  tliank  God  that  she  has  finally  found  the 
riglit  one  to  make  her  happy."    He  was  again 


26 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


silent  a  moment,  and  then  asked :  "  Who  is 
the  bridegroom  ?  " 

"  Death  !  "  replied  tlic  old  musician.  "  A 
glorious  rainbow  Avas  just  spanning  the  castlo 
towers  as  I  camo  to  the  door  and  found  the 
people  running  liither  and  thither ;  old  blind 
Lena,  lamo  Mathew's  children,  and  Avidow 
Margaret  witli  the  weak  back,  beside  half  a 
dozen  more  of  their  acquaintance,  were  weeping 
and  praying  and  condoling  together.  I  asked 
what  was  the  matter,  and  just  at  that  mo- 
ment tlic  maid  came  down  and  told  them  their 
gracious  lady  was  dead ;  I  ran  up  the  steps, 
for  I  felt  that  unless  I  caw  it  with  my  own 
eyes,  I  could  not  believe  that  the  poor  liad 
lost  their  good  angel ;  and  sure  enough,  there 
lay  the  beautiful  earthly  vesture  whicli  tlio 
pure  spirit  liad  laid  aside  and  left  beliind. 
Tlien  I  went  down  into  the  thickest  wood, 
took  my  violin  and  played: 

*  Commit  thou  all  thy  ways, 
And  all  thy  heart  may  "wrinji, 
To  Ilim  Avhose  love  and  praise 
Tho  distant  heavens  sing. 


riDDLEIIANNS. 


2T 


To  clouds  and  air  and  wind 
IIi3  givcth  course  and  way, 
And  paths  lie  'II  surely  find 
Wherein  thy  feet  may  stray.' 

Whib  playing,  I  tlioiiglit  of  all  thoco  who 
had  lost  their  truest  friend,  and  knew  not 
tliat  the  old  song  which  had  so  often  before 
consoled  me  would  lead  me  exactly  on  the 
right  way." 

The  old  Baron,  after  thus  suddenly  hearing 
announced  the  death  of  the  wife  whom  he 
had  so  secretly,  but  still  so  tenderly  and  fer- 
vently loved,  gazed  long  and  fixedly  into  the 
night.  He  leaned  his  head  upon  tlio  case- 
ment, and  finally  his  lips  began  to  move ; 
he  spoke  quite  softly  to  himself,  but  the  mu- 
sician's delicate  car  distinguished  t!ie  Avords : 
0  how  happy  I  might  have  been  with  thee  !  " 

Soon,  however,  recovering  himself  and  en- 
deavoring to  conceal  his  emotion,  he  ad- 
dressed his  conhdaut  in  solemn  and  sub- 
dued tones :  "  The  body  of  my  wife  must 
be  placed  in  the  family  va\ilt  under  the  castle. 
No  one  must  come  except  the  pastor,  tho 
lichoolmastcr,  tho  bailiff,  and  thou." 


28 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


"  With  jour  permission,"  replied  the  mu- 
sician, "  there  must  come  yet  one  other, 
namely,  a  cousin  of  yours  who  arrived  yester- 
day in  the  town,  and  who  wishes  to  speak 
witli  you  upon  important  family  affairs." 

"  I  have  no  family,"  said  the  Baron,  harshly. 

"  That  is  nothing  to  me,"  returned  the  mu- 
sician, quite  as  harshly ;  "I  promised  your 
cousin  that  you  would  see  him  to-morrow  at 
ten  o'clock.  You  will  not  make  a  liar  of  me, 
—  turn  Fiddlehanns  into  Swaggerhanns  !  So 
much  the  less,  I  think,  that  I  suffered  the 
cousin  to  pay  me  for  my  mediation  with  you ! 
If  you  do  not  admit  him,  I  as  an  honorable 
man  must  return  him  his  money,  and  that  I 
would  bo  loath  to  do." 

^'  We  are  henceforth  severed  for  ever !  "  said 
the  Baron,  coldly. 

^'  No,  we  are  not  so,"  quietly  replied  the 
musician ;  "  yes,  if  I  had  used  the  money 
for  myself!  But  it  was  for  the  poor  cottager 
dying  in  the  wood,  and  his  wife  and  children. 
As  I  vras  playing  '  Commit  tliou  all  thy  ways,* 
I  camo  unwittingly  near  the  place  where  ho 
lived,  and  I  saw  that  the  lightning  had  struck 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


29 


Lis  thatched  roof,  that  his  cabin  was  in  flames, 
and  all  wcro  lying  in  the  open  air.  Could  I 
do  anything  better  than  to  go  to  the  inn,  play 
for  money,  and  let  your  cousin  pay  mo  well 
for  my  good  word  with  you  ?  " 

"  Ilanns !  "  cried  the  Baron,  angrily.  "  Thou 
wretched  man,  and  dost  thou  only  toll  mo 
this  now  ?  " 

"  That  comes  from  the  owl's  life  you  load," 
replied  Fiddlehanns ;  "  he  who  shuts  himself 
up  is  rightly  served  when  others  aro  before 
him.  Your  cousin,  the  bailiff,  the  school- 
master, and  all  their  kin  ai^c  now  down  in 
the  wood  with  beds  and  clothing,  and  the 
innkeeper  has  consented  to  receive  the  dying 
man  beneath  his  own  roof.  There  would  be 
plenty  of  space  in  this  old  castle  for  more  than 
one  poor  sick  man  ;  but  no,  here  the  owls  and 
the  bats  must  have  all  the  space  to  themselves, 
all  the  year  round." 

''Out  of  my  sight !  "  cried  the  Baron,  almost 
beside  himself  with  rage  ;  "  thou  too  hast  now 
some  design  upon  mo  !  I  am  right :  you  aro 
all  good  for  nothing,  —  all,  all  —  " 

"  Even  she,  who  after  an  absence  of  moro 

20 


30 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


than  twenty  years  will  return  to-morrow  to 
the  caslle,"  said  the  musician,  wlio  know  well 
lio\v  to  deal  with  the  old  recluse. 

The  Baron  was  a  long  time  silent,  but  finally 
called  out  in  a  steady  voice  —  the  firmness  of 
v/hicli,  however,  vras  evidently  forced  —  llic 
following  order :  "  To  morrow  at  ten  let  iho 
hearse  stand  before  the  drawbridge !  As  the 
clock  strikes,  mind  you !  Two  days  shall 
the  coffin  remain  open  in  the  chapel.  And 
one  tiling  more :  the  cousin  may  come  too. 
Good  night!" 

Thus  saying,  he  closed  tlie  window. 

Fiddlehanns  gazed  long  and  thoughtfully 
toward  the  spot  whence  tlie  Baron  had  spoken 
witli  him.  He  loved  his  lord  above  all  else 
in  tlie  world,  and  tlie  noble  heart  beating  in 
that  ill-shapen  body  vras  filled  with  a  trutli 
and  purity,  a  boundless  devotion,  such  as  tlic 
i^ecluse,  who  had  been  most  bitterly  deceived 
in  the  so-called  aristocratic  world,  had  never 
elsewhere  encountered.  The  old  Baron  had 
never  imparted  to  him  the  immediate  causes  of 
his  misanthropy,  —  but  Fiddlehanns  had  di- 
vhicd  them.    lie  too,  poor  fellow,  had  not  had 


FIt)DLEnATfNS. 


31 


loss  cause  to  liato  liis  kind,  for  his  early  deform- 
ity had  rendered  him  the  object  of  the  bitterest 
scorn,  and  even  sometimes  of  actual  abuse ; 
and  yet  he  loved  all  men  for  the  sake  of  the 
one  man,  tlic  Baron,  whom  he  was  accustomed 
to  call  tlie  preserver  of  his  life,  and  to  whom 
lie  owed  far  more  than  the  preservation  of  his 
bodily  existence. 

He  had  been  born  a  serf  upon  one  of  the 
Ilammerstone  estates,  and  tlie  Baron's  father, 
a  proud  man  deeply  imbued  Avith  all  the  prej- 
udices of  his  class,  and  with  cold-blooded  se- 
verity, availing  himself  of  its  immemorial  but 
tyrannical  privileges,  had  determined  that  the 
deformed  boy  should  in  future  play  the  part  of 
a  buffoon  in  t!ie  baronial  castle ;  for  it  was  at 
that  time  a  fancy  of  the  lesser  lords  to  imitate 
tlie  courts  of  tlie  greater,  in  all  their  folly 
and  extravagance  ;  and  in  emulation  of  kings, 
princes,  and  dukes,  counts  and  barons  (w^lio 
Illumed  tliemselves  as  much  upon  their  couple 
of  square  miles  as  the  former  upon  their  larger 
territories)  insisted  upon  kee})iiig  their  stand- 
ing armies  of  two  or  tliree  soldiers,  their  court 
cliapcls,  court  households,  and  court  fjols. 


riDDLEHANNS. 


The  poor  humpbacked  boy  looked  forward 
ill  despair  to  a  late  of  whicli  he  had  already 
had  some  foretaste  in  unworthy  treatment  re- 
ceived from  tlie  high-born  youtlis  who  oc- 
casionally visited  liis  lord's  castle.  Amid  their 
insulting  words,  rude  jests,  and  ruder  blows, 
—  all  of  which  he  was  compelled  to  bear  in 
uncomplaining  silence,  —  he  felt  utterly  for- 
saken by  all  the  world,  and  often  envied  the 
baronial  hounds,  which,  if  also  misused,  were 
at  least  not  mocked  at  or  derided.  The  proud 
old  Baron's  son  was  the  only  living  creature 
who  seemed  to  have  the  least  sympathy  with 
the  poor  deformed  boy ;  he  often  protected  him 
against  the  ill  usage  of  his  companions,  always 
treated  him  as  a  human  being,  and  wdien  ho 
liad  been  unable  to  save  him  from  the  conse- 
quences of  some  rude  game,  Avould  creep  in 
the  evening  to  the  side  of  the  w^eeping  boy  and 
endeavor  to  console  him.  Sometimes  even 
he  w^ould  appoint  a  meeting  in  the  wood, 
where  they  could  undisturbed  enjoy  the  mu- 
sic of  their  little  concerts. 

When  the  young  Baron,  at  liis  father's 
death,  came  into  possession  of  the  estates, 


33 


his  first  act  was  to  frco  tlic  poor  hiimplvjick. 
Tho  young  lord  soon  after  went  upon  his 
travels,  and  the  musician  earned  his  bread 
by  journeying  from  village  to  village,  and 
playing  at  all  festivals,  weddings,  church 
consecrations,  and  anniversaries ;  he  thus 
gradually  received  the  name  of  Fiddlchanns. 
He  never  forgot  how  his  young  benefactor  had 
over  treated  him  as  a  human  being,  and  had 
crowned  all  ty  bestowing  upon  him  the  most 
precious  of  gifts,  freedom.  He  thence  called 
him  his  preserver,  and  more  than  once,  when 
he  felt  in  especially  good  spirits,  had  he  cried 
out :  "  0,  if  God  would  only  grant  mo  tho 
favor  of  going  through  fire  and  Avater  for  the 
Baron,  if  I  could  only  break  my  neck,  or  at 
least  a  leg  or  an  arm,  in  his  service,  so  that  I 
should  not  be  forced  to  leave  the  world  his 
debtor  ! 

It  gave  him  the  deepest  pain  to  see  how  his 
benefactor  had  been  injured  or  deceived  by  his 
fellow-men,  —  how  irremediably  he  had  been 
wounded  in  his  very  life's  core ;  it  was  his 
greatest  pride  that  he  enjoyed  the  confidence 
of  the  unhappy  man,  who  had  thus  witli- 

20* 


34 


FTDDLT^nAXN'S. 


cl^a^Yn  himself  from  all  association  with  his 
ki:id,  suniciontly  to  bo  intrusted  Avitli  the 
many  acts  of  boncficonco  of  which  ho  Avas  tho 
cccrct  author. 

Now  as  ho  descended  tlio  hill,  lie  again 
tliought  of  his  youth,  of  all  lie  owed  to  tho 
recluse,  of  the  lattcr's  profound  melancholy, 
and  of  tliat  hour  which  was  indeed  rarely 
absent  from  his  mind,  when  the  Baron  woidd 
be  surprised  in  his  voluntary  captivity  by  some 
malady  or  sudden  accident,  without  a  single 
friend  near  to  aid  or  console  him. 

The  moon  whicli  had  just  emerged  from  a 
heavy  cloud,  was  now  shining  clearly  upon 
the  castle  and  its  immediate  vicinity ;  the  old 
musician  tliought  he  could  distinguish  through 
the  crooked  branches  of  an  aged  fruit-tree  a 
human  figure.  He  quickly  concealed  himself 
behind  the  trunk  of  a  large  oak,  and  looked 
about  him  witli  a  eearcliing  gaze.  He  soon 
fjlt  convinced  that  the  figure  was  that  of  tho 
Ltranger  cousin,  and  a  suspicion  which  he 
could  not  stifle  suddenly  arose  in  his  mind, 
lie  cautiously  glided  nearer  the  Baron's  rela- 
tive, and  although  ho  could  see  nothing  uu- 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


35 


Usual  in  liis  behavior,  yet  he  felt  very  uneasy  ; 
and  Avlien  he  saw  him  return  toward  the  town, 
he  followed  at  a  little  distance,  closely  observ- 
ing all  he  might  do.  He  then  carefully  exe- 
cuted the  commission  intrusted  to  him  by  the 
Baron. 

On  the  following  morning,  as  the  clock 
struck  ten,  the  drawbridge  was  let  down  to 
permit  the  passage  of  the  hearse,  which,  ac- 
companied by  the  pastor,  the  schoolmaster, 
the  cousin,  and  Fiddlehanns,  already  stood 
without.  The  bailiff  was  not  there ;  he  had 
taken  a  severe  cold  the  preceding  evening 
from  exposure  to  the  night  air  in  the  damp 
wood,  and  was  suffering  from  an  attack  of  his 
old  malady,  rheumatism.  He  begged  Fiddle- 
hanns to  present  his  excuses  to  the  Baron  ; 
but  the  latter,  still  greatly  excited,  would  take 
no  excuse,  and  cried  out  to  Fiddlehanns :  "  Go 
back  again  !  Have  the  horses  harnessed  ;  — 
if  ho  cannot  walk,  he  must  ride.  He  was 
at  the  wedding,  and  he  shall  be  at  the  home 
bringing.  AVcll,  —  what  are  you  standing 
there  for  ?  Arc  you,  too,  refractory  ?  O 
all  i§  Tain,  —  there  is  neither  love  nor  truth 


.36 


FIDBLEnANNS. 


upon  llio  faco  ol'  tliis  y^-ido  earth  !  lie  must 
como,  li3  j^liall  como  ;  I  will  it,  just  because 
li3  does  not  wish  it.  Rheumatism?  Miser- 
able excuse!  Any  one  could  give  the  same. 
March  I  " 

"  By  your  bavc  !  "  said  Fiddlehanns,  gently, 
pressing  somewhat  nearer  to  the  old  lord ; 
but  the  latter  would  not  suffer  him  to  con- 
tinue, and  hastily  crying  out,  "  Five  feet  from 
my  person !  "  stepped  back  out  of  the  reach  of 
of  a  whispered  word. 

"  But  it  is  something  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance," continued  the  ^misician  in  implor- 
ing tones,  to  which  the  Baron  Avas  totally  un- 
accustomed from  his  lips,  and  which  only 
increased  his  ill-humor.  "  ^larch  !  "  cried  he, 
imperiously.  "  You  will  cither  bring  the  bai- 
liff with  you,  or  you  will  never  let  me  see 
you  again.  Our  solemnities  are  waiting.  In 
the  meantime,  I  will  settle  matters  with  this 
cousin  of  mine." 

The  musician  sadly  glided  away.  The  Bar- 
on signed  to  his  cousin  to  follow  him  to  the 
tower ;  but  as  he  entered  his  chamber,  and  tho 
stranger  prepared  to  follow,  the  old  man  sud- 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


87 


d^iily  shut  tho  door  in  liis  faco,  bolted  it,  tlion 
o;)o:icd  t!i3  sliding  panel  and  said:  "Now,  sir, 
v/iiat  do  you  want  witli  mo  ?  "  Tlio  cousin 
began  a  long  series  of  friendly  wishes  and  rep- 
resentations, the  sum  of  Avhich  was,  that  the 
Baron  had  better  abandon  his  strange  mode 
of  life,  and  pass  tlie  remainder  of  his  days  in 
tlie  society  of  his  own  people.  The  old  man 
lauglied  derisively,  and  replied :  "  Our  cousin 
is  probably  a  doctor ;  he  doubtless  has  a  di- 
l)loma !  Does  he  wish  to  cure  me?  0,  I 
understand  that  much  better ;  wait  a  mo- 
ment !  " 

He  left  him  an  instant  alone,  then  return- 
ing to  the  opening,  handed  him  a  full  purse, 
adding :  "  We  will  change  parts.  1  will  play 
tlie  doctor.  You  are  suffering  under  a  A'ery 
serious  malady  ;  you  are  troubled  with  debts ^ 
are  you  not  ?  Here  is  a  remedy  that  will 
rrork  an  instant  cure.  Only  no  relapse,  master 
ijousin,  no  return  !  And  now  master  cousin, — • 
march  !  " 

The  panel  was  again  closed.  Swinging  the 
purse  in  his  hand,  the  cousin  went  slowly  and 
carefully  down  the  wnnding  stairs ;  but  instead 


33 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


of  going  into  the  open  court-yard,  he  hid  him- 
self in  a  dark  passage  leading  to  the  chambers 
on  the  ground  floor. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  half-hour,  the  carriage 
returned  with  the  bailiff  and  the  musician, 
and  no  sooner  had  the  old  Baron  heard  the 
rumbling  of  the  wheels,  than  he  descended 
from  the  tower,  and  carefully  and  affection- 
ately assisted  the  bailiff  out  of  the  vehicle. 
Then,  aided  by  Fiddlehanns,  the  schoolmaster, 
and  the  two  coachmen,  he  lifted  the  coffin 
from  the  hearse  and  bore  it  into  the  castle 
chapel,  in  the  centre  of  which  stood  an  an- 
cient bier,  on  which  the  coffin  was  laid,  and 
then  opened.  The  old  man  could  no  longer 
control  the  feelings  whicli,  by  a  powerful  effort, 
he  had  hitherto  suppressed  ;  tears  gushed  from 
his  eyes,  and  he  sank  on  his  knees  beside  the 
dead. 

The  few  words  spoken  by  the  pastor  were 
simple,  heartfelt,  and  most  touching ;  but  they 
lasted  far  too  long  for  Fiddlehanns.  Scarcely 
had  the  pastor  concluded,  when  the  hump- 
backed musician  in  unutterable  anxiety  rushed 
up  to  the  Baron,  seized  him  by  both  his  hands, 


FIDDLKIIANXS. 


39 


and  asked  after  tlio  cousin.  The  old  man 
silently  motioned  liim  back  ;  but  Fiddlchanns 
repeated  tlie  question  so  urgently  that  all  tlio 
bystanders  became  attentive,  and  even  infected 
^Yitll  his  alarm,  more  especially  as  they  had 
not  seen  the  cousin  leave  tlio  castle. 

The  old  lord  meanwhile  recovered  his  self- 
command.  Rising  from  the  ground,  ho  said 
to  the  assembled  retainers :  "I  will  make  my 
will,  and  you  shall  be  the  witnesses." 

The  musician  whispered  a  question  in  tlio 
pastor's  ear,  and  as  tlic  latter  shook  his  head 
in  reply,  Fiddlehanns  suddenly  left  the  chapel. 
In  vain  did  the  Baron  angrily  call  him  to  re- 
turn ;  he  was  not  to  be  detained. 

The  company,  led  by  the  lord  of  the  castle, 
then  left  the  chapel,  the  doors  of  Avhich  were 
carefully  closed,  and  entered  a  large  hall.  The 
Baron  bade  them  wait  there  five  minutes,  and 
then  disappeared  through  a  small  side  door  to 
bring  paper,  ink,  and  pens  from  the  innermost 
recesses  of  his  liormitage,  into  which  no  ono 
was  ever  suffered  to  penetrate. 

Scarcely  liad  he  left  the  hall,  when  those  rc- 
mainiiig  behind  heard  a  piercing  cry,  which 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


Eeemed  to  come  from  the  ground  floor.  Hor- 
ror-stricken, tli'ey  hurried  out  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound. 

"  That  Avas  certainly  the  voice  of  Fiddle- 
hanns,"  said  the  schoolmaster ;  ''he  has  met 
with  some  accident.  Come,  let  us  aid  him ! 
But  Avhcre  can  he  be  ?  " 

The  bailiff,  who  was  the  most  familiar  with 
all  the  turns  in  the  old  castle,  struck  at  once 
into  the  right  way,  and  the  others  were  just 
about  to  follow,  when  the  cry  was  repeated,  but 
weaker  than  before.  The  bailiff  and  his  com- 
panions redoubled  their  pace,  and  were  already 
in  the  lower  hall,  when  the  cousin  rushed  past 
them.  They  held  him  fast ;  he  tried  to  tear 
himself  away  and  force  a  passage  through  liis 
captors.  They  stormed  him  Avith  questions  re- 
garding Fiddlehanns  ;  meantime,  he  succeeded 
in  tlu'owing  them  off;  he  drew  a  pistol  from 
his  breast,  fired  it,  and  ran  away.  All  stood 
quite  astounded,  when  the  old  Baron  made 
his  appearance,  and  asked,  quite  breathless, 
''  What  has  happened  ?  " 

When  told  all  that  was  known,  he  cried: 
"  What  do  I  care  for  my  cousin,  what  for  the 


FIDDLEHANN3. 


41 


-svliolo  world !  Seek  the  fiddler !  My  life  for 
his!" 

He  forced  them  all  out  of  the  hall,  and  tliey 
soon  found  old  Fiddlehanns  in  the  same  little 
room  in  which  he  had  discovered  tlie  hidden 
cousin  ;  —  the  poor  humphack  lay  in  his  hlood 
upon  the  floor.  When  he  heard  them  coming, 
he  raised  himself  slowly  up,  and  when  he  be- 
held the  Baron's  tall,  gaunt  form,  and  deathly 
pale  countenance,  he  gasped  for  breath  and 
cried :  "  God  be  praised  !  He  lives  !  "  His 
ugly  features  were  transfigured  with  joy.  The 
Baron  hastened  to  his  side,  and  folding  his 
arms  tenderly  around  his  dying  form,  said  : 

0  thou,  my  only  friend  in  this  world,  what 
has  happened  to  thee  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Fiddlehanns,  gently ; 
"  the  fervent  wish  which  1  have  all  my  life 
kept  hidden  within  my  inmost  soul  has  finally 
been  gratified :  1  longed  to  die  for  my  pro- 
server,  my  benefactor." 

Thus  saying,  he  looked  up  into  the  Baron's 
face  and  smiled. 

"  Die  1  "  cried  the  old  man  ;  "  no,  that  thou 
shalt  not,  thou  must  not." 

21 


43 


FIDDLEHAXXS. 


Tiio  musician  sank  back  into  his  arms,  and 
in  broken  tones  replied  :  "  Old  sti(T-ncck  !  All 
is  not  in  this  world  as  you  will.  There  is  One 
above  who  also  has  His  Avill,  and  what  He  docs 
is  well  done.  An  old  instrument  wears  out 
and  breaks,  —  wdiat  more?  —  I  havo  but  ono 
request !  " 

"  Speak  !  "  cried  the  Baron  ;  "  any  request 
from  thoo  shall  be  sacred  to  mc ;  I  will  falfd 
it.'' 

"  You  have  so  many  cliildren,"  murmured 
the  dying  musician,  —  "  all  the  people  on  your 
barony, —  and  they  all  love  their  good,  true 
father  so  dearly  !  —  Do  as  I  do  !  Go  out !  I 
am  going  out  of  this  miserable  ruined  cabin 
called  life.  Go  you  out  of  your  captivity,  out 
of  your  old  tower,  to  your  children !  Long, 
l.)ng  may  you  live  among  those  whom  yoii 
have  aided  and  benefited,  —  you  owe  it  to 
those  poor  people,  —  her  poor  people.  Every 
heart  feels  oppressed  when  it  must  ever  receive 
love  wliich  it  has  no  opportunity  of  returning, 
when  it  cannot  show  its  gratitude  even  by  a 
silent  glance !  And  when  you  come  to  die, 
then  will  true  love  close  your  eyes." 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


43 


Tlicsc  words  were  his  last. 

"xVll  is  over!"  said  the  pastor;  the  Baron 
himself  closed  the  eyes  of  the  faithful  dead, 
sighed  deeply,  and  tlien  said  :  "  OIi !  there  lies 
dead  the  noblest  of  human  hearts,  and  so  soon 
after  that  other  heart  wliieli  I  so  fervently 
loved.  Have  compassion  on  a  poor  man  who 
now  stands  in  this  world  alone  and  utterly 
desolate !  " 

"  Not  so  !  "  returned  the  pastor  and  the  bai- 
liff; "  you  do  not  know  how  ricli  you  are  in 
love.  0,  remember  the  last  prayer  of  our  de- 
parted friend,  and  you  will  soon  learn  to  know 
the  full  value  of  the  treasure  you  possess." 

"  What  I  have  promised  the  dead,  I  will 
perform  to  the  living,"  said  the  old  man, 
sinking  upon  the  ground  utterly  exhausted 
and  overcome  by  these  sudden  and  repeated 
blows. 

Meanwhile,  unusual  sounds  were  heard  pro- 
ceeding from  the  court-yard,  which  was  soon 
filled  by  a  multitude  of  the  townspeople,  who 
had  captured  the  cousin  and  now  held  him  a 
prisoner  in  their  midst.  All  his  efforts  to 
-escape  had  been  in  vain.    When  the  Baron 


riDDLEIIANNS. 


had  sent  the  faitlifiil  Fiddlchanr.s  for  the  sick 
bailiff,  the  musician,  divining  icme  evil,  had 
called  together  a  number  of  tlie  tov/nspeopb 
and  sent  them  to  guard  tlic  exit  of  the  draw- 
bridge, impressing  upon  them  that  they  were 
to  keep  themselves  concealed,  and  if  the  stran- 
ger should  attempt  to  leave  the  castle,  tliey 
■\verc  to  seize  him,  and  under  no  circimistances 
suffer  him  to  depart,  but  to  bring  him  back 
again  into  the  stronghold. 

The  fugitive  had  in  fact  fallen  into  their 
hands,  and  tlie  investigation  instituted  by  the 
bailiff  on  the  spot  soon  brought  out  the  "whole 
truth  of  the  matter.  The  stranger  was  no 
relation  to  the  old  Baron,  but  the  leader  of 
a  band  of  robbers  which  had  long  rendered  the 
borders  of  the  barony  insecure.  He  had  heard 
of  the  solitary  life  led  by  tlie  wealthy  but  mis- 
anthropic recluse,  and  had  devised  a  j;lan  cf 
procuring  access  to  him  by  feigning  himself  to 
be  a  cousin.  All  that  he  saw  and  heard  con- 
vinced him  of  the  exceeding  difficulty  of  exe- 
cuting this  project,  and  when  the  old  Baron 
handed  him  the  pui'se  through  the  open  win- 
dow, he  determined  to  conceal  himself  within 


FIDDLEIIANNS. 


45 


the  castle  walls,  and  during  the  niglit  murder 
and  rob  the  recluse.  Fiddlchanns  had  found 
out  his  hiding-place  and  had  given  the  alarm, 
whereupon  the  robber  had  plunged  his  dagger 
into  the  poor  musician's  breast.  The  criminal 
was  fettered,  and  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
justice. 

Tlie  old  Baron  had  the  body  of  the  f^iithful 
Fiddlchanns  carried  into  tlio  cliapcl  and  placed 
by  the  side  of  his  wife.  At  tlie  end  of  the  time 
appointed,  both  corpses  were  homo  into  tlio 
vault,  and  so  placed  that  a  vacant  space  was 
left  between  them  for  the  old  man  himself. 
Instead  of  the  family  escutcheon,  the  Baron 
had  a  silver  plate  inserted  in  the  old  musi- 
cian's cofhn,  on  which  was  inscribed  :  "  Hu- 
manity is  tlie  loftiest  Nobility !  " 

Notwithstanding  its  difficulty  and  his  own 
repugnance,  the  grav-haiicd  recluse  faitlifully 
kept  the  promise  he  had  made  to  his  dying 
friend.  He  left  tlie  castle  and  went  to  live 
with  the  pastor  in  the  town  where,  surrounded 
by  tlie  luifeigned  love  and  reverence  of  those 
whom  he  was  never  weary  of  benefiting,  ho 
gradually  lost  his  misanthropy,  and  finally, 

21* 


46 


FIDDLEHANNS. 


during  tlic  last  days  of  his  life,  experienced 
that  delightful  feeling  which  thrills  a  fatlier's 
soul  when  he  can  look  round  him  and  behold 
among  his  grateful  children  the  happy  anqf 
ennobling  effects  of  his  own  upright  desires 
and  endeaA^ors. 

Every  evening,  accompanied  by  tlic  pastor, 
the  old  Baron  went  to  the  castle,  and  wliilo 
the  pastor  awaited  him  in  the  court-yard,  he 
remained  a  short  time  in  the  chapel,  and 
played  on  his  flute  the  melodies  Avhich  Fiddle- 
lianns  had  been  wont  to  accompany  with  his 
violin. 


THE  END. 


